Life After Death
by Tib Dunncan
Summary: Allyson died when she was nineteen. Since then, she's been serving as a Guardian Angel to humans. Now, she is charged with the task of taking care of the Membrane children after their mother's suicide. Only, there's something unusual about the oldest...
1. Foreword

ATTENTION!!! :

Hey-O! Fan People! Normally, I don't bother with Author's notes, especially ones that delay you from reading at the BEGINNING of a story, but there were a few points of concern that I wanted to address before you guyzes started reading this:

I am NOT suicidal. Get that into your heads. NOT.

I am not – nor will I ever – bag on anyone who is or thinks that they ARE suicidal. And I'm not gonna go into the whole 'Oh, but you don't have to be…' speech because if you are I know that would probably just piss you off. I know a couple of people who would just say really stupid stuff to those people, and I don't want you to think that I am one of them.

(This is the _reallllly_ important one.) The term 'Angel" is used very loosely, because I do not mean to offend ANYONE here whose religion does not agree with something stated in this fic. Most of what is in here, actually, was made up. (Heheh…) I do not care much FOR religious advertising, and do not wish to impose anything upon anybody. The only reason I did anything having to do with any religious basis was because I got the idea of Dib's guardian angel after reading some other fiction on this ahmayzuhn website and thought it would be cool to write. That is all. I do not want to make any enemies because of this fiction.

Now that you have endured that tediously long (but morally necessary) introduction, you shall go forth and read the angsty fic of awesome doom! I had to say that because the word 'doom' doesn't appear enough in this fic. =(

~Tib Dunncan


	2. Angel

Dib held his sister and cried. His mother lay on the bed surrounded by dozens of old medication bottles. Neither one of the children, who were only five and six, just old enough to comprehend what had happened in their parents' room, knew what to do with themselves while the police confirmed the suicide.

"Why don't you kids go inside and wait for your father to get home?" one of the uniformed men asked, ushering them out of the room. Gaz kicked herself away from the man's grip, screaming for her mother.

"Gaz! Gaz, Come here!" Dib dragged his sister, who was still struggling and crying, out of the room, "Dad will be home soon." I hope. "Everything will be okay." He knew it wouldn't.

"Professor! Hey, Professor Membrane!"

Reporters swarmed him on all sides as he tried to enter his own home. He had gotten the police call and come straight home. His kids had been home with her when it happened.

God, his kids were probably nervous wrecks. It would take years to fix this in their minds.

A soon as he entered through the front door, his kids had attached themselves to his legs. "She's dead." His daughter said bluntly, simply letting him know what he had already been told. Both his children had stopped crying about a half an hour ago, when they figured out that it wouldn't do them any good.

He must have seen me looking out from the bedroom, because he suddenly let go of his father's leg and started yelling to get away from his mother. I was shocked. He had _seen_ me. No. He _hadn't_ seen me. How could he have?

I turned back to the bedroom where Mae's body still lay on the bed. A silvery shadow developed slowly over the bed. She was sobbing into her hands as she floated above her old body. I reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling Mae back down to the earth.

"It's alright. It'll be okay." I rubbed her shoulder gently. She was taking this very hard, like most that went her way.

The young boy came rushing into the room, looking mad as Hell, right at me and Mae. "Get AWAY from Mom. Leave her alone!" he screeched at me. Mae's husband came in after him, carrying the little girl.

"Dib… Gaz," she said between sobs. "I'm so sorry! My god, I didn't know what I was doing," She reached down to hug her children, but I stopped her. "Don't. They won't feel anything but chill… I don't want to scare them anymore tonight." I tried to phrase it as calmly as possible.

"Get away from her! Let her come back! Go away!" he yelled. Membrane came up behind him and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "There's no one there," he said.

"But there is! It's her!" he pointed an accusing finger at me. "and mom…"

I let go of Mae and kneeled down by the son, Dib. He backed up into his father when I came closer. "Get away!" he screamed. "Leave us alone!"

"Can you see me?" I asked, calmly. I knew the answer, already, but I just wanted to make sure that he could understand me clearly. Hiding behind his father, he nodded. "Can you see your mother?" again the boy nodded. "Point to her." Dib pointed to the body lying lifelessly on the bed.

So he could see me, but not his mother's ghost… Interesting…

"Tell them I'm sorry! Tell them that I love them and that I was stupid for doing what I did. I wasn't thinking! I'm sorry I left them…"

"You can't hear your mother?" Dib shook his head. "Alright. Tell them that your mom said that she was sorry and that she loves you all."

"I know what you are! I won't let you _touch_ them!" he said, defiantly as he stood protectively in front of his family. "Go away!" Tears welled up in his amber eyes. Poor child…

"Please," Mae said, coming up behind me. "I can't leave my children here. Please let me go back!" she sobbed.

I stood and turned to her. "I can't, Mae. This is how it works. I have no control over that. Now please. Before you're stuck here on earth – Go…"

The ghost of Mae looked at me, "Please. _Please_ take care of my children…" she said. I nodded as she turned and disappeared.

I looked back to the Membrane family. The Professor still seemed to be staring blankly at his wife's body.

"BRING HER BACK!" the boy screamed. "BRING MOM BACK!" He may not have been able to see her ghost, but he seemed to know that there was now one less entity in the room.

"I can't, Sweetheart." I kneeled down to him again, and this time he held his ground.

"Son, there's nothing there. Who are you talking to?"

"Mae told me that she loves you, Dib… and that she was sorry that she left like that."

"Get out of our house." He said, with as much composure as he could muster. "Get out and don't ever come back."

"Dib," I reached out for him, but he shot backwards.

"Get away from me! I know what you are! You killed her!"

"No, Dib. I didn't. I was helping her."

"No you weren't! You're a demon, you can't help anyone!"

For a moment, I was taken aback. "No, Dib. I'm not a demon…"

"Son, there's nothing there." Membrane said again.

"Get away!" he screamed.

I frowned slightly, a lump rising in the back of my throat. The poor child was so stunned by what happened that he was simply unreasonable.

I reached out quickly and wrapped my arm around his small body. Dib screamed in pure terror and thrashed against me.

"Son?" Membrane said, concerned. He put his daughter down and kneeled close to us. He was afraid that Dib was having a seizure or something. I pulled back slightly, which only made Dib scream louder. "Listen to me." I said in his ear. His screaming did not cease. "Dib, sweetheart, listen to me." I clamped my hand over his mouth as gently as possible to stop his screaming. His tear filled eyes were wide with terror. He thought I was a demon. "Listen. I did not kill your mother. I was her angel and she asked me to help her and to take care of you and your sister. I will not hurt you. Ever."

The boy's struggling ceased and the tears ran freely down his face. He then turned to me and buried his face in my shoulder, crying openly again.

"Son, come here."

The boy heaved a few more sobs before I removed his arms from around my neck and told him to go to his father, who was holding Gaz again as well.

He looked back at me for a few moments. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetie," I said, trailing behind his father, who couldn't see me.

"What's your name?" he asked quietly.

"Stop talking to yourself, son. No one is there."

I nodded and touched the top of his head. "My name's Allyson."

"Allyson…" the boy repeated.

I looked to his sister. "Gaz? Can you see me?"

There was no reply.

"She doesn't talk to anyone much." Dib explained. "But I bet she can _too_ see you, Allyson."

I smiled as Membrane went into one of the upstairs rooms and laid his daughter in bed, then going into another room and laying Dib in bed. "Goodnight," he said to each before he left.

"Allyson?"

I turned back into the room. "Yes?"

"Is mom happy now?" he asked.

I stood there for a moment, fairly stunned that he asked that. I went over to his bed and sat, holding him. "Your mother never really wanted to leave you. She realized what she had done to everyone – even herself – and regretted her actions immediately. I daresay that she's still quite shaken by her sudden departure. And I promise you that she'll be happy soon, but no matter how happy she is away from Earth, she'll always love her family. Always." I put extra emphasis on that part.

Dib nodded and quickly fell asleep. I walked into Gaz's room. She was already asleep in her winged footie Pajamas. For some strange reason, I had the feeling that she could see and hear me as well as her brother, but just didn't want to show it.

The next morning, I found myself inexplicitly drawn to the Professor's room. With the incident having just happened, he was going to stay home for a few days with his children. He, however, sat on the bed with his head down.

"You should know that she loved you." I said, and then remembered that he couldn't her or see me. Oh. I felt bad for him. Dib and Gaz could understand and at least have a little bit of closure, but their father… I would have to think of a way to get the message across to him.

I went to Gaz's room; she was still asleep. It was already past noon, but I didn't blame her. Things wouldn't return to anything resembling normal for the next few months, almost a year.

Which is why I was surprised to see that Dib was awake. "Sweetheart… Everyone else is still asleep. What're you doing up?"

Dib scrambled off the bed as fast as any five year old can and attached himself to my leg. After moving him back a bit, I kneeled down to him. 'Hey, what's wrong?"

"You were gone." he said. "You promised that you wouldn't leave."

"Oh," I hugged him. "I didn't leave; I was just in the other rooms."

"With Gaz and dad?"

"Mhmm." I hummed in reply.

"Did Gaz say she could see you?"

"Gaz is still asleep. Your father was up, though."

"What did he say?"

"I don't think your dad can see me, honey. But he's very upset about what happened." I stood up and lifted Dib onto his bed, sitting next to him.

"Well, can't you tell him what you told Gaz and me?"

I shook my head. "Your dad can't hear me." I said, making Dib frown. He thought it over for a moment.

"But he can hear me!" Dib jumped off the bed once again and led me into his father's room.

Membrane looked up when he saw Dib enter the room 'alone'. "Yes, son?" his voice sounded flat.

"Allyson wants to tell you something about mom, but you can't hear her."

"Well, where is this Allyson?" he asked.

"You can't see her, either," This was going to end very badly. I bent down and whispered in his ear. "Tell him that I was your mom's angel."

And he did.

Professor Membrane stared at his son from behind the safety goggles that he never seemed to take off. "That's ridiculous." He said after a long while. Dib turned to me, looking helpless. "He won't listen…" Dib said.

"Son, who do you keep talking to?"

"_Allyson!_" he emphasized my name, turning back to his dad. I put a hand on his shoulder, not wanting him to get too upset.

"There's no one there."

Dib opened his mouth to say something in return, but I stopped him. "Let it go, please. It's just not worth it." Dib closed his mouth and looked at me. "Don't you want him to believe us?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart, but arguing about it won't help if he can't see me." I said. Dib nodded and allowed himself to be ushered back to his bedroom.

Once out of his father's earshot, Dib sighed. "I bet he would have believed it if Gaz had said it."

"That's not true." I said in an attempt to comfort.

"Come on, Allyson. You know it is. Dad just doesn't believe me."

"I think that he just didn't want to believe I was there because I was your mom's angel." I said softly.

"Why, though? Why doesn't he want to believe you?"

I held him for a few moments. "I think because, to him, if I really was Mae's angel… he may think that I let her down."

"But you didn't. I saw you helping her. She didn't want to go and I saw you help her!"

I rubbed his back gently. "It's okay. I'll find another way to let him know what your mother said."

Dib hugged me with the enthusiasm that only a six year old can produce.


	3. Gradeskool & Wings

A few weeks later, Dib started gradeskool.

"Can't you come?" he pleaded, tugging on my robes. His father sat at the kitchen table, watching his son who was talking to, what Membrane perceived as, thin air.

I kneeled down to him. "Wish I could, but you've got to go on your own."

"Why?" he whined.

"To learn stuff, make friends!"

Dib's expression dropped. "None of them like me…" he said quietly, looking at the tiled floor.

"Now, I'm sure that's not true. Besides, whatever happens at skool, I'll be right here when you get home, and I can't wait to hear all about it!" I hugged him briefly before Gaz came downstairs, ready for pre-skool.

"Son; Daughter: Skooltime! Come on, then!" the Professor boomed, leading his children out the front door.

"G'bye, Dib! G'bye Gaz! Have a good day!" I called from the front door.

Okay. Membrane would be back in about fifteen minutes, minus his children. After that, I had five and a half hours until the kids came home… Five and a half hours to get him to believe that I was there.

Time to get to work.

I went into the living room and looked around. My first method would be to try and convince him through subtle elements: The television turning on, the air kicking on… things like that.

At nine twenty-two, Membrane came back through the front door to find that the TV, which had been off when he and the children left, was now on. All THAT received was an "hmmph," before he dismissed it and turned the switch off.

About four minutes later, I turned the air conditioning on.

He got up and turned it off.

"Please, Professor. Try to at least ACKNOWLEDGE that something's not right!" I said in desperation. It had been an entire day of failure and figuring out that I could not manipulate inanimate objects to such a great extent.

At last, Professor Membrane looked up at the clock, grabbed the keys, and went to receive his children from skool.

I sighed deeply. He was going to be harder than I had thought. On the bright side, I could now conclude that I was correct: Membrane didn't want to believe about me because OF me, not because Dib had said something.

Dib came running through the front door long before Membrane or Gaz. "Allyson!" he quickly found me in the living room, latching onto me like a lost child reunited with their parent.

"Hey, sweetheart. How did first grade go?" I asked, picking him up onto the couch.

"Not nice…" he said glumly. "I told you, no one likes me." He said matter-of-factly.

Something about that just upset me… But his expression quickly lit up again. "Look what I did!" he reached into his backpack (which was three times the size of his rather meager body) and pulled out a single sheet of paper from among the many textbooks that the skool had issued each child.

It was a drawing. More so, it was a drawing of a pale girl with grey colored eyes and blonde hair. It was a picture of me, and a very good one at that. He tried to give it to me but the paper kept falling through my hands. Eventually, he settled for holding it up so that I could see it properly. "Wow, Dib. That's amazing! You're a wonderful artist, did you know that?" I tousled his hair gently and smiled.

He smiled back and ran to his father. I followed.

"Dad! Dad! Look! It's a picture I drew of Allyson! She said she liked it!" He tugged at his father, who looked down. "Wow, son. That's a nice picture of… who did you say it was again?"

"It's Allyson, Mom's angel! She said that she liked it!"

"Again with this angel of yours." He took the picture in his hands. "So this is what your imaginary friend looks like? Very nice, Son." He handed the paper back to Dib, then patted him on the back.

"She's NOT imaginary!" he protested, clutching the paper. When he received no reply, Dib frowned and turned away from his dad, back into the living room.

I kneeled down and hugged him, still wondering why he felt it was so important to have my presence known. "I think that the picture is beautiful, sweetheart."

Dib hugged me back and then went upstairs; I followed.

He clambered onto the bed with a little help and asked me to sit down with him, so I did.

"You're my friend, right, Allyson?"

I smiled and played with his hair. "Of course I am, Sweetie." We lay down on the bed, my legs dangling over the side, him laying smack in the middle – he was so tiny, then!

"Do you know what?"

"What?"

"I don't need any of the kids at skool. I'm glad that you're my friend…"

I smiled, but still felt uncomfortable. I wished he wouldn't talk like that. Yes, I was glad that he now regarded me as his friend, but for him to say that he didn't need any of the kids?

"I'm glad that I'm your friend, too, Dib." I sat up. "I'm gonna go check on your sister, okay?"

"Okay." He said simply, still staring up at the ceiling.

"Gaz?" When I walked into her room, she was on the floor with about five dozen crayons scattered around her and a sheet of paper. "Hey, Gaz. What are you drawing?"

"A piggy."

HA! She COULD hear me! I made a mental note to tell Dib. I looked over Gaz's shoulder; it seemed that both Membrane children were very artistic. You could actually tell that it was a pig, and for a pre-skooler, that was very uncommon. "It's very pretty. Are you going to name it?"

"Bacon. Its name is Bacon." She explained.

"Fitting name for a pig." I got down on the floor next to her. "You're a good piggy draw-er."

"Thanks. So you're the 'angel' that Dib's been going on about, huh?" she paused her drawing, looking up at me for a fraction of a second. "You don't look like an angel to me. Where are your wings?"

I willed my wings to form behind my back. "I don't really need them while I'm on Earth, so it's pretty pointless to keep them in sight. You and your brother already know, so I don't really need them for show or anything."

"Why aren't your wings white?" Gaz asked, stopping her coloring all together and sitting up in front of me, a look of concern in her young face.

I moved one feathered wing in front of my line of sight. Deep charcoal colored feathers fell in front of my face. "Hmm… I'm not really sure. Maybe it's because I only help those who have recently become angels." I removed the feathers from my face.

"So mom's an angel, now?"

"Yep."

Gaz went back to her coloring.

"I think Dib might have been right about you. What kind of angel has black wings?"

Ouch. "Don't know. But when I find out, I'll definitely tell you. Deal?"

"Deal." She answered, not looking up from her paper.

I sat up next to the young girl and gave her the same gesture that I had given her brother a few minutes ago: a slight tousle of her hair and a smile, though she didn't see it. Then I left. Before heading back to Dib's room, I decided to try swing by the kitchen.

Professor Membrane was gone, a note on the table where he had been sitting.

'The labs called at 3:48. I had to go, but I promise, I'll be home before dinner. Sorry.

Love, Daddy.'

I Sighed. Membrane didn't come home that night until one. I helped the kids with dinner as best I could, since I couldn't really do anything with inanimate objects.

"How come Dad's not home?" Gaz asked.

"He was called to the labs," I said as they got ready for bed. "He'll be home soon."

Both children were in bed by seven thirty, and I was downstairs practicing working with pen and paper. If I could just hold the pen long enough, I could make letters!

'You promised. Kids had dim dinner and in bed by eight.

-Allyson.'

Was the most I was able to produce.

I waited in the kids' rooms until the professor came home.

The door clicked open with the softest of sounds. The professor walked in and immediately went to check on his kids. I felt bad for all of them.

Membrane then went back into the kitchen to find my note where he had left his, read it over, and effectively crumpled it in his hands, shaking his head.

I stared at him in disbelief. Frankly, I could not believe what he had just done. I swear, if he said anything to Dib about that note, the professor would suddenly find that he was being haunted.

But I would put that thought from me for the night.

I walked into Gaz's room: she was fast asleep in her footie pajamas.

Dib however, was still awake, sitting upright in bed.

"Sweetie, what are you still doing up?" I sat at the edge of his bed.

"Is Dad home?" he asked, half dazed with sleep.

"Yes, sweetheart. Come on, it's one in the morning. You need sleep; you've got skool tomorrow, Dib."

Dib scrambled out of bed. "I have to talk to dad." He was out the door before I was able to say anything else. So, naturally, I followed him as he eased himself down the steps. He was so tired, I was afraid that he was suddenly going to fall forward down the steps, asleep.

When he finally made it to the bottom of the staircase, I fell back a little bit so that I wasn't directly behind him.

"Dad?" membrane spun around instantly.

"Son, what are you doing up?"

"I had to wait for you… There's something I need to tell you…"

"No, Son." Membrane thought for a moment and then told Dib to sit down. He went over to the trash bin and pulled out my note.

I slapped a hand to my forehead. This guy was probably the thickest man in existence.

"What is this?" he asked Dib, uncrumpling the paper to the point where you could read it.

Dib looked at it for a moment, reading the words faster than any six-year-old I know. "Allyson wrote that." He said, looking up at his father solemnly.

"Tell the truth, son." He said sternly. I groaned and Dib looked up at me.

"You wrote that, right?" he asked me.

"Who do you keep talking to?"

"Allyson, dad! She's right there!"

The tired professor shook his head. "I don't have time for your games. Go back to bed, son."

"But she's real…" I led him back up the steps and helped him into bed. "Why doesn't he believe in you?"

"I don't know." I said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "But I don't want you to worry about it. Alright?"

"Like you can be my secret, right?"

I smiled lightly. "Sure." I kissed his forehead and sat with him.

Barely conscious, Dib looked at me and said something that grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me for the next week: "Love you." And he fell asleep.


	4. Teenage Boy & Makeup

"Ally! You here?" Dib called up the steps.

"What's all the shouting for? I'm right here!" I said, coming up fast behind him.

He gave a start. "Jeeze, Ally, don't do that. You might be dead, but I'm not, yet. I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible."

"No more spontaneous heart attacks. Got it." I said. "How was skool?"

"Crappy. The same was it's been for the last eleven years." He replied, sitting with me on the couch.

Dib was fifteen by this time. I still looked nineteen, same as I did the night Mae died.

"Sorry I asked." Heavy Sarcasm.

"Hey. When was the last time you'd been out?"

I thought. "Uhm… never…" It was the truth, honestly. For nine years, I had stayed with Dib and Gaz in the house. And when they were out, I practiced. I really was staring to feel like a ghost.

"Oh. Well then you need to get out more."

"Hey, where'd you put your backpack?" Dib pointed vacantly to a spot near the door. I got up and went to get his pack. It fell through my hands once, thudding to the floor, but I was able to get it to him.

"Wow, Ally! You've really been practicing when I'm at skool, haven't you. I thought you were just kidding!" He took the backpack form me and I sat back down next to him.

"I feel loved."

"Sorry." He sounded like he really meant it.

"Oh, hey. I dropped something."

I got up and went halfway across the living room. When I had dropped the backpack, some items had fallen out the front pocket. I bent down and picked them up. Hold on a second…. A tube of liquid concealer and Blush? "Uhm…" I held the items in my hand and showed them to him.

"Oh!" he took them and shoved them back into his backpack. "Those must be Zita's. We have the exact same backpack this year, and she sits right behind me…"

"Oh… Okay… Just make sure that you give them back to her tomorrow. Alright?"

"No Problem. I didn't even know that they were in there." He said, tossing his backpack aside.

"Okay."

Dib sat very still the entire time until he eventually fell asleep.

It was like that every day for a month and a half.

So, I was near to terrified when, once after he came home from skool, he dropped his backpack on the floor, ran upstairs and locked himself in his room. I wasn't stupid enough to ignore that.

"Dib?" I knocked on his bedroom door.

"Go away," was barely audible from the other side.

I stood there stunned for a moment or two and then walked across the hall.

"Gaz?"

No response. I sighed, heading back downstairs. I noticed his backpack lying on the floor. I really shouldn't….

I got down on my knees and actually went through his stuff… In the front pocket of the backpack were a small tube and a plastic container. Cover up and blush. I frowned. Why did he still have these?

Footsteps.

Dib stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"I need my backpa-" I stood up quickly. He put two and two together. "YOU WERE GOING THROUGH MY STUFF!?!" he roared, furious.

"Why do you still have the make-up?"

"I keep forgetting to give it to her." He said defensively. He came up to me and grabbed the backpack from the floor and the make up from me.

He smelled like alcohol. No, not drinking alcohol… rubbing alcohol. The kind that would be used as a disinfectant.

"Dib-"

He turned away from me and headed back upstairs.

I frowned and grabbed his arm to stop him. And it DID stop him. It also brought him to the floor.

"Oh, my gosh. Dib?" I fell quickly next to him.

"I'm fine," he got up quickly, gritting his teeth.

"Dib, what's going on?"

"Nothing." He headed back up the steps. I stood at the bottom, dumbfounded.

I rushed up the stairs after him. "Dib?" I knocked on the door again.

"GO AWAY!"

I frowned, then willed myself to pass right through his door. Normally, I wouldn't do that, but I was scared. Never had I seen him act like that before.

When he saw me, he scrambled to get his jacket back on.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, Ally. Nothing's going on…"

I sat next to him. His bedroom had changed a lot since he was six. Everything was pretty dark in color, and I really can't say that I minded it… in fact, I think it suited him… "The make up… the moodiness… For goodness sake, Dib, you smell like rubbing alcohol. Let me see your arm."

"Why?"

"Let me see your arm."

Dib hesitated for a moment before taking off his jacket and pulling up the right sleeve of his shirt. There was a good four inch gash on his forearm. "Oh my… What happened?"

"I clipped myself on the fence outside of skool, that's all. I just didn't want to worry you."

I took his jacket. "Take off your shirt."

"What?" he sounded surprised.

"You heard me. Go on, take off your shirt."

Dib sat there for a moment before realizing that I was serious. Slowly, he eased his shirt over his head. "I don't know what you're getting at," he said.

There were few bruises on his back. I took the shirt from him.

He seemed fine, but there was something… small splotches of discoloration on his body. Some were lighter than his actual skin tone, some darker. It was the concealer. "Stay here." I went into the bathroom and got a warm cloth to wipe away all the cover up.

He was covered in bruises, cuts and gashes.

"Well, even if you didn't have enough sense to tell me, at least you had enough sense to rub the cuts with alcohol." I said, "What happened?"

"I told you. The fence."

"That's one aggressive fence."

"You don't know the half of it." He said, burying his face in his hands. "It's every DAY." He sighed. "Between almost all of my classes… At least in elementary and middle skool, half the kids didn't know what physical abuse was. Hell, half the kids still don't, but they DO know how to do damage."

I hugged him gently, so as not to hurt him. He twisted around and hugged me back, burying his face in my shoulder. "Love you." I said, quietly.

"Love you, too." He said.

I was surprised, to say simply. I hadn't heard him say that to me since he was twelve.

"Allyson! Allyson!"

"Bedroom!"

Dib came bounding into the room, almost hitting the doorframe in the process. I looked up at him and gasped. There were several bloody cuts on his face and hands. "Oh, Dib, what happened?"

"Never mind that," he said, wiping the blood from his eyes. "You'll never believe what happened today!"

"You were fed through a wood chipper?" I headed to the bathroom to get the disinfectant.

"No. There's this kid in our class… He just got here today. Allyson, he's not human… I just know it! He's an alien, I just KNOW it! I can just FEEL it!" Dib took the alcohol doused cotton swab from me and started to dab his wound with it, wincing as the alcohol stung the open cuts.

"And HE did this to you?"

"Kind of. He pushed me into someone's yard. They really should have a 'beware of dog' sign on their fence somewhere…"

"Man, that dog scratched you up pretty badly…"

"Eh, I'll be alright…" he said, dismissively. "But the ALIEN, Allyson! Everything we were hearing up on the roof for the last how many years? It was REAL!!! I TOLD you! I TOLD you they were coming!" he smiled widely; I smiled back.

Dib launched himself into a very elaborate recap of the day.

Apparently, the other kids at skool hadn't believed him about the alien, even though, Dib said, it was so obvious that Zim WAS an alien…Then, once skool let out, he had chased the kid clear across town, was pushed into the yard where he'd gotten cut up, followed a trail of smoke from the alien's FLYING DOG, reached it's bizarre house with sleep-cuffs at the ready and right as he had the alien cornered, on of the lawn gnomes in Zim's yard turned to him and blasted the cuffs, disintegrating them!

And without anything to actually capture Zim with, he had come home.

Well, after that point, Dib had a habit of coming home with a few cuts and bruises. Eventually, I couldn't tell if he was still being assaulted at skool, or if the bruises were from chasing Zim halfway across the city. I imagined that it was the latter, because every day he'd come home excited and full of energy, usually rambling off about what had happened that day.

"So, after that, I realized that it was just a hologram projection, and right at that moment, the worlds biggest water balloon comes hurtling right towards me. The entire town is completely flooded." He finished, with a big gesture.

I laughed lightly, watching him ring out his coat and towel-dry his hair. The poor boy was completely soaked. "Just be happy you didn't drown!" I said, handing him a dry towel. A small pile was starting to collect on the bathroom floor.

"No kidding…" he mumbled into the towel. "But at least I know a major weakness! Zim won't go anywhere NEAR water!"

The door slammed open, almost hitting me (not that it would have really mattered.). Gaz stood there, looking… angry. But that wasn't much of a surprise… "Dad just called. He said that he can't come home tonight. Do you know why?"

Dib stopped drying off and looked up at his sister. "Uh…"

"He can't come home because his car is completely water logged."

"Oh." I said. This wasn't going well already. The kids had been able to wad through the water and come home, but the professor's labs were clear across town.

"Hey, that's ZIM'S fault. HE was the one who dropped the 6000 ton water balloon on the town."

"But whose dumb idea was it to have a water balloon fight in the FIRST place?" She picked up one of the wet towels on the floor and threw it at him.

"Jeeze, Gaz. Chill out." He said, catching the towel.

"Chill out?" she picked up another fistful of towels. "Because of you, we're going to miss family dinner night. Dad can only spend one night a YEAR with us. And YOU messed it up." She came at him, flinging the towels at him. Dib backed up away from his sister, falling over the rim of the bathtub.

"Oh!" we cried simultaneously. I tried to help him up, but Gaz turned on me.

"But out, Allyson!" she roared, already halfway turned back to her brother.

"I'm sorry, Gaz. How was I supposed to know that he was going to flood the entire town?"

"You WILL be sorry, mark my word. I swear, I'm going to make you wish you had drowned in that flood." She threw the remainder of the towels that she had in her fist in his face and then stalked off, out of the bathroom.

I helped Dib up out of the bathtub; he looked shaken. "She means it you know." He said, as he continued to dry himself off as if nothing had happened. "She's going to make my life miserable until family dinner night next year."


	5. Classrooms & Broken Bottles

I handed both kids their backpacks. "Careful!" I called out the door.

"See you later," Dib called back, attracting many stares (Only he and Gaz could see me); Gaz didn't reply.

The professor was working from home, and was down in his lab nearly three days at a time, so, really, it was just me and the kids.

I did a double take on that last sentence.

Me and the kids. Why did that sound… maternal?

Not that I didn't love them like kids… I had been with them for most of their lives. Of course I was going to love them, and I was just lucky enough to have them love me back. (Gaz, of course, just didn't show it, but if she didn't really love me, then she would have backed Dib up in an attempt to get rid of me.) But there was a certain distance between us, as expected. I had walked into their lives the night their mother died.

It had been a few hours since the kids left, and I went to try to communicate with Professor Membrane, down in his lab.

"You're very lucky." I said, leaning against the counter where he was working. "Your kids are such darlings." He didn't acknowledge. "You know, you really ought to drop a few of your projects. The kids miss you." Still no answer. I sighed, standing up straight. "I really wish you could hear me. Mae was so upset, and I wish I could tell-"

Membrane got up and walked out of the lab; I frowned. I knew he couldn't hear me, but it felt like he was just ignoring me.

His arm rang. "Hello?" pause. "Yes, this is his father… He did what? He's WHERE?!?! Well… I'm all the way across town at the labs… I may be a while, but tell him I'm coming." He pressed a button on his arm and continued working.

I frowned. Dib. Something was wrong with Dib. What had happened?

"Dib?" I found myself in a stark-white room. One of the perks of being an angel is that you can just… go. If you will yourself to be someplace, you'll get there.

"Ally?" He sat up in the hospital bed.

"Oh my goodness, what happened?"

He shrugged. There were bloody bandages wrapped around his head, he had a black eye, and there were several cuts on his body. "Got in a fight. My fault." He said with downcast eyes, playing with the frayed strands of the bed sheets.

I sat down by him and rubbed his shoulder gently; he winced. "What happened?" I asked.

"Zim... was… Really, I don't know what Zim was doing to the kids… but… When I tried to stop him, well… we kind of got in a fight."

"What were you THINKING, Dib? Sweetie, do you realize that you're in a hospital?"

"Yes I realize that I'm in a hospital." He snapped.

I fixed his hair and kissed his temple. "Your dad said that he's on his way; he was at the labs when the skool called."

"The skool called dad? What did they tell him?" a worried expression was plastered on his tired face.

"I don't know; I didn't hear."

"Oh…" he swallowed hard.

"Dib, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." He said; a moment of pause, "I didn't get in a fight…" he confessed quietly. "Or, at least… I didn't fight…"

"You mean… They… Oh, Dib, why didn't you just say so?" I hugged him gently.

"I… didn't want…" He broke off suddenly, and buried his face in the sheets, shaking.

"Shh. It's alright, sweetheart." I rubbed his back gently. "Come on. Shh."

"When… I saw all the – the blood on the sidewalk after they pushed me down the hill… I passed out."

"It'll be okay." I said solemnly. "Come on. Sit up, now."

Dib sat up as his dad walked into the room.

"Son, what happened?"

"I…" Dib looked up at me, sorry. "I got in a fight."

"A fight, son? I thought that you knew better than that." He sat down on the edge of the bed directly where I was sitting – I had to shoot off the bed before he sat on me.

"Dad, I-"

"Now, now, son. There is no excuse for fighting. You know that."

"Yes, dad." He hung his head.

"I'm going downstairs to the lobby to check you out of the Hospital." Membrane got up and left.

"Nice consolation." I said, looking after him.

"Son?" Membrane came into his son's room the next Monday. "Son, wake up. You're going to skool today."

"What?" He sat up as I stood at the foot of his bed. It had been a Thursday when he had been checked out of the Hospital. Friday, he'd stayed home from skool, and had the weekend to himself. Now, on Monday, he was going to skool.

"Ally?"

"Go on. It'll help."

"God, what are they going to say?" he moaned. "Half the skool saw me pass out."

"You'll be fine. I'll see you later, alright sweetheart?"

"Kay," he replied as he followed Gaz out the door.

I felt bad for him, but there wasn't much I could do… Except…

I stood in front of the mirror in Dib's room. There was one thing I could do, but…

I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror again. A fifteen year old girl in sweats and a hoodie looked back at me, a blonde ponytail cascading down her back. I hadn't been to highskool in forty eight years.

Looked like I was going back.

"Class, I'd like to introduce you to the newest hopeless appendage to the student body. Her name is Allyson." I entered the class apprehensively. Dib sat in the front seat furthest away from the door (on the opposite side of the room than Zita, who's backpack was light pink, much unlike Dib's dark blue backpack.) with his head down. I swear I was about to burst out in tears for him. "Take your seat _now_, Allyson."

I took the only open seat in the back of the classroom.

I wouldn't be able to talk to him until lunch.

"You're all doomed doomed doomed doomed…" the teacher's lecture went on like that for the better part of the hour. Ms. Bitters. Fitting name.

The bell rang, signaling lunch for the students, and a chance for me to talk to Dib.

I waded my way through the halls after him; Finally, he reached his locker, where one broad-shouldered student in a letter jacket came up behind him and rammed Dib's head right into the metal locker door.

He left, laughing.

Dib rubbed his forehead in pain and opened his locker.

"Hello." I said, lightly.

"Look, I already told your boyfriend that I'd do his algebra for the rest of the semester. Now, I'd appreciate it if you, your boyfriend, and the rest of the football team would leave me alone." He said, his face buried in his locker as he located his next classes' books.

"Dib-"

"I've got to go." He said bitterly before closing the door.

"Dib, _wait_!"

He stopped, turning back to me on his heel. "What?" he saw that I obviously wasn't the girl he had thought I was and his eyes suddenly got very wide. That was one of the things that I loved most about him – any other teenager would have just said, 'Oh, sorry, thought you were someone else,' and walked away. If Dib said it, he meant it.

"You're not Sarah." He squeaked, looking at me. "I –I'm so sorry. You're Alexandria, right?" A wide smile.

"Close, but no. My name's Ally."

"Not short for Alexandria." He concluded.

"No. Allyson." I said. A strange look passed over his face; the connection was there, I knew it was, but it wasn't being made. "How's your head?"

"Oh, I'm fine. You saw that?"

"No I meant from Friday."

"So you heard about that. Yeah. I'm fine, thanks…" He turned to leave again.

I frowned. "Dib, sweetheart…"

Dib stopped. "Why did you just call me 'sweetheart'?" he asked. "The only other person to call me that is-"

"There you go." I came up behind him and pushed him forward, toward the lunchroom. "You DID say that I needed to get out of the house, more. So… Here I am…"

He spun around to face me, grabbing me by the shoulders. "What are you doing here?" a wide smile spread across his face.

"Well, you seem happy to see me." I said, removing his hands from my shoulders as we continued walking.

"Of COURSE I am!" he nearly shouted. "Wow, Ally!" he ran a hand through his hair, wincing when he touched the bruise that was now rising on his forehead. "You look… great!"

"Human and four years younger!" I stated, matter-of-factly.

We sat down at a lunch table together. "God, you're Fifteen! Wow!" He seemed a little hung up on that.

"Yes, I think we've established this."

"Wait – I thought that you couldn't be seen by other humans?"

"Well, as it turns out, when I'm like this, they CAN see me."

"But you can turn back, right? You can still turn back into an angel." He sounded worried.

"Uhm… yes, I believe so."

"Oh, okay. Ally, I'm so glad that you're he-" He stopped suddenly, looking past me to the other side of the cafeteria. "Ally. It's the alien I told you about. Zim. He's looking right at you."

"Is he? Well, why don't YOU-" I got up and forced him off the bench. "Introduce us?"

"What? Are you insane? Did you miss the whole 'evil alien come to take over Earth' thing?"

"No. I got that. Just do this for me, and I promise that I won't make you talk to him anymore."

"You SWEAR?"

"I swear. Come on then. And try to look happy."

Dib – reluctantly – led me over to the table that Zim was sitting alone at. He looked suspiciously up at Dib as we approached. "Zim, this is Allyson. Allyson, this is Zim, the filthy alien scum that I told you about."

I frowned. "Jeeze, Dib." I looked at Zim.

"What makes you think that I WANT to talk to you?" Zim asked, poking his lunch tray with a spork. "You dare interrupt the mighty ZIM during my normal human feeding time?"

"Why were you staring at her?" Dib shouted accusingly at Zim.

This was going in exactly the opposite direction that I had wanted it to. I had wanted it to seem like I was just some exchange student, no one in particular, just someone who he had met, but Dib was pretty much mauling Zim for just looking at me.

"Sweetheart, calm down." I breathed in his ear.

"I was not staring at your filthy human friend." Zim stated coolly. He stood and stepped in front of Dib. "Although I don't see how you managed to obtain a friend. You're still the same Dib-stink you were before she came." He looked at me. "No body has told you about Dib's history of crazy, have they."

I took a deep breath. "As a matter of fact, they have. I was HOPING that I would be able to make peace with you, seeing as how I AM Dib's friend, but that obviously is not the path that you wish to go down." I turned to face Dib; he seemed rather somber as compared to before.

I put my arm around him and guided him back to our table. "What's wrong?" I asked quietly, so that only he heard.

He sighed deeply. "He's part of the problem, you know. I wouldn't be considered HALF as crazy as I am now if HE hadn't landed here."

"I know you're not insane, you know you're not insane. That's all that really matters, is that you know that you are sane. Everyone else will realize it in time." We sat back down.

Skool let out four hours later. Gaz had left already so it was just me and Dib walking home.

"Would you still like for me to convince your father?"

"About what?"

"About me. Would you like for me to vouch that Allyson the angel is real?"

Dib thought it over for a few minutes as we walked. "Nah. Everything's good the way it is now." We turned the corner and came upon a group of kids that I recognized from skool. In turn, they saw me and Dib. "Except that," he said sheepishly. "I could live without that."

The kids walked up to us. "Hey babe. Need some help?"

"Help with what?"

"Escape." He gestured to Dib, who frowned.

"Go away, Torque." He said stiffly.

"Why don't you?" Torque shoved Dib backward. "Go away and leave you and your freak family out of the pretty lady's life." Leave you and your freak family out. _My_ family. "Come on, babe."

"Just walk away." Dib breathed. We both turned.

"Come on, looser – Fun's just begun." Torque grabbed Dib by the arm and pulled back, bringing him to the concrete with a dull thud.

There was a sharp crack and as the glass of the bottle that one of the kids in the back was holding shattered against the sidewalk.

Torque stepped on Dib's chest, knocking the wind out of him. At the same moment, the kid with the smashed bottle threw it directly at Dib. The jagged edges of the broken glass hit his face, bringing blood. Torque lifted his foot and repeatedly kicked Dib in the side, making him gasp.

"Oh, look, you're bleeding." He picked the broken bottle up from the sidewalk. "Maybe I can make you pass out again."

"Stop! STOP!" I screamed. Torque paused, looking at me.

"What?"

"Leave him alone! Just GO!" I got down on the sidewalk next to him. "Dib? Dib, sweetheart?" He smiled wearily up at me.

"_Sweetheart_? What? You going OUT with this loser?"

"Go away, Torque." I said. "Leave him _alone_."

"Alright," he said. "Only because I still want a standing chance with you. But first…" Torque kneeled down and raked the broken glass across Dib's face, then grabbed his glasses off his face and threw them into the street, where they were consequently run over by a minivan and effectively crushed.

"You don't have a snowball's chance in HELL with me, you _ass_!" I hissed.

Torque knelt down to Dib and picked him up by the collar of his shirt before practically throwing him into the fence; Dib's knuckles were white as he grabbed the mesh to keep himself up. "Be happy your girlfriend was here, you little turd."

With that, he and the rest of the group left.

"Dib?"

He swallowed hard and looked at me, still clutching the mesh fence. A tired smile. "I'm okay." He said, the blood from the cuts leaking between his lips.

I positioned myself underneath him for support as we walked back to the house.

Gaz was the only one home. "Who are you?" she said, not really bothering to look up at us.

"It's me, Gaz." I said, closing the door. She understood that, oddly enough. "Here, sit," I pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and Dib sat, wincing.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

"Are you kidding me? You're a mess!" I said, "I'm going to go get the disinfectant. Stay right there. Please."

"Mhmm…" he hummed.

I cleaned the cuts on his face – he winced every so often as the alcohol stung the cuts. "It's not usually that bad." He said. "Usually, it's just a few punches and a cut or two. It was only because there were more than four of them. And that you were there."

"I'm so sorry, Dib. I don't know what I was thinking, enrolling in hiskool like that! This is all my fault, I'm so sorry that you-"

"Whoa, Ally. Chill. You sound like you're about to explode." He said, rubbing his side, where the kid had kicked him.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, sitting down next to him. "Oh, Dib, sweetheart…" I brought my hand to his face but didn't touch him.

"I'll be fine." He said, smiling.

"I know you will. This time. But if this keeps happening…"

"I don't think they'll do anything_ too_ bad to me for a while. Not after Mongo Slunchy was kicked off the wrestling team and suspended for hospitalizing me." He smiled sheepishly at me.

"Hmm… I suppose, for a while. But what happens when they forget about that? What's going to happen to you when those kids think that they're safe – When they realize that no one will punish them as they would if you had been hospitalized consecutively?"

Dib got very quiet.

"I want you to be safe. Watching that happen to you… If I weren't already, I think I would have died."

He smiled weakly. "Why are you so caught up over this?"

I sat back down next to him and patted his hair down like I used to when he was little. "You don't realize it, but when your mom died that night… I was left without a human. Every angel needs a human, and every human needs an angel."

"And?"

"_And -_ after she left, I got a new human. I'm your angel, Dib."

He looked tired; he looked worn out and upset; but most of all, he looked surprised. "M-my… angel? _My_ angel? But…"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing… Just… So I didn't have an angel before Mom died?"

"It would appear that way."

"But you said that every human needs an angel. I was six by that time."

"I'm not exactly sure why I became your angel, Dib, or why you didn't have an angel that night." I said. "But since that night – Since you really accepted me – I have been your angel. THAT'S why I'm so caught up over this, if you really must know."

"You're my guardian angel…" he said, in a cheesy, high-pitched voice, then laughed.

"Laugh, Dib, but it's true." I said, getting up. He stopped abruptly and looked over his shoulder at me.

"Sorry. Really. It's just… You've been here for most of my life… You're my friend, not my 'guardian angel'. You've been like a mother to me all these years-"

I froze. Why did Dib saying that fill me with such remorse? "In all truth, I am your guardian angel, Dib. I will always be your friend, of course. Always. But I AM your angel."

"Right." He agreed. "So… we're cool?"

"Very." I said. "Why don't you go up to bed, sweetheart? You look exhausted."

"I _feel_ exhausted." He said, hauling himself up and heading for his bedroom.

"Goodnight, dear."

"G'night."


	6. Accusations & Defense

I sat by Dib as he lay in his bed, still asleep from that afternoon; it was almost midnight and Gaz was asleep. Professor Membrane was still not home, but that wasn't unusual.

He began to stir in his sleep.

"Huh?" he sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Ally? What… How long was I out?" he yawned.

"A few hours. It's almost midnight." I smiled at him as he gaped at me.

"What?" he exclaimed. Suddenly, there was a deep, angry noise coming from somewhere inside Dib.

"You want something to eat, sweetheart?"

He nodded and got up. "Will you come down with me?"

"Of course."

It was dark downstairs, but we managed our way to a light switch. Dib sat and had cereal and we talked.

"So, you really lived through the horrible weasel invasion?"

"It wasn't as horrible as people have made it up to be, really. It was only a few thousand weasels in the western North America." I said cheek in hand, my elbow resting on the table.

"Wow. Do you think Ms. Bitters would believe that?" he asked.

"Probably not." I said; he laughed lightly.

The door opened.

Professor Membrane was home.

"Dib? What are you doing-" he stopped, seeing me, Allyson the fifteen year old. "Son… Who's this?"

"A friend from Skool. We were working on a project together."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dib." I said – he looked fairly shocked. I hugged him and put my mouth to his ear. "I'll be upstairs."

"Goodnight." We said simultaneously as I left the home.

"Smooth story," I said as he entered his bedroom. "Who'd've thought my sweet little Dibbers would be able to pull off lying to his father?!" I said jokingly.

"Thanks." He said, lying down. 'For a minute there, I actually thought that you were leaving the house."

"Please. Where would I go?" I asked. "I live here too, you know."

A half-hearted laugh. Silence.

"You know, you're the only Human I've known that I've ever had conversations with while they were still alive…"

"I'm such a freak," he said.

"You're not a freak." I started, defensively. "You are such an intelligent and funny and kind human being, Dib. You are not a freak."

"Jeez, Ally. I was being sarcastic. Calm down, will you?" he said, his cheeks and ears turning pink.

"Oh." I said, simply. Good way to make me feel stupid.

"But I appreciate that, you know. No body's said that before. Thanks."

"Nobody's ever told you that?" I asked. Surly he was mistaken.

"Well… no…"

"Well, it's true… Know that. Please?"

He laughed at my antics. "Yeah. Alright, I know."

He lay down and closed his eyes. After that afternoon, I couldn't blame him for still being tired.

"Ally?" he mumbled.

"Yes?"

"Where do you go while I'm asleep?" he looked up at me through half-closed eyes.

"I stay right here. I'll always be right here."

"You just… stay there?"

"No… I usually monitor your dreams, dear."

"Hmm?" it was barely more than a hum.

"Shh. Go to sleep, dear. I'll explain in the morning." I kissed his forehead and watched his breathing even out at he fell asleep.

"So, when I'm asleep, you're watching everything I do consciously, subconsciously, and physically at the same time?"

"Yes. It's a lot easier than it sounds. Especially when you're an astral being."

"So you see everything I dream and think about while I'm asleep?" the familiar pink tint was returning to his cheeks.

"No. I would think that a little rude, wouldn't you? A person's thoughts and dreams are the most personal and intimate details of their lives. It would be not only foolish but imprudent to want to hear every thought and see every dream."

Dib heaved a sigh of relief.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't remember what I've dreamt about for the last eleven years. Just making sure." He smiled.

"Oh." I replied; I was sitting at the kitchen table of the Membrane household with both kids. "Gaz – are you going to that gaming competition after skool today? Do you need a ride?"

"No. I'm not going to go. Last thing I need is amateur competition. And you can't drive." She pointed out.

"Learner's permit. I'm fifteen, now."

"As opposed to when you were a deceased nineteen year old."

"Hmm…" I got up and left the room for a moment.

"Lighten up, Gaz. She's just trying to be nice. YOU can't drive either."

"I'm still thirteen. I know I can't drive. But at least I'm living."

"Come on, Gaz. There's really no reason for you to be like that to her."

"Dib, are you BLIND!?!?" she hissed to her brother. "Don't answer that, I already know – the answer is yes." Even though they were in the other room, I could still hear them thanks to being me.

"Blind? Gaz, what are you-"

"Haven't you ever once stopped to think – what if you're wrong?"

"About?"

"ALLYSON!"

I popped my head back into the kitchen. "Yes?"

"Nothing. Go away."

"Kay…" I left again, resuming survey of the living room.

"Dib, I've watched Allyson for the last nine years. She CAN'T be an angel. Did you ever stop to look at her wings? Ever?"

"What about em?"

"They're BLACK! Do you remember that music video I showed you when we were little – about Death?"

"You showed me a lot of videos about death when we were little. Now, most of them involve me, but…"

"Dib, FOCUS!" there was a clatter of chairs and other kitchen things.

"Ow." I heard. "Gaz, I've been with her for eleven years. She knows me better than YOU do. And I know HER better than you do, too."

"I know you may think she's an angel, but she's not, Dib. She's NOT an angel. If anything, she's just using you."

"For what, exactly?"

"Like I know. What I do know is that the Angel of Death has black wings. You said yourself – She was Mom's angel. And you KNOW what happened to Mom. Just watch your back." She said. There was the sound of the chair scraping against the floor and sure enough, Gaz came walking into the living room. She looked at me briefly before heading back upstairs.

Dib soon followed. "Ally?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you do me a favor?" he sounded very timid, which he was not usually around me. "Can I see your wings?"

"Sure." I would pretend that I hadn't heard their conversation. Once again, I willed my wings to form behind my back, the first time I had done so since I had sat in the bedroom with Gaz that evening. My wings were still a slick collection of charcoal black feathers.

He stared at them for a good five or six minutes. "Ally… Why are they black?"

I shrugged, my feathers ruffling noiselessly. "I'm not quiet sure. They've always been that way."

"I never noticed that before…" he said, his brow creasing. "I… Ally?"

"Yes?" I went up to him and put my arm around him.

"Are there Death angels?" I put my wings away.

"I believe so." Dib took a deep breath; I noticed it was shaky. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" I wrapped around and hugged him.

"Nothing." He said, quietly. He was very limp…

"Dib, sweetie… Come." I led him upstairs to his bedroom. By then he was shaking. "I want you to know something…" we sat down on his bed together. "I did hear what you and your sister were saying in the kitchen." He swayed on the spot for a moment.

"Ally-" he clapped his hand over his mouth, looking sick.

"Shh. It's okay. Let me finish. I heard what you and your sister were talking about." His eyes were wide like the night that Mea died. He was scared of me again. "And I want you to know that I love you, Dib. I really do. I would never hurt you."

He lay down with his back to me and curled up in the fetal position, shaking. I put my hand on his back.

"I know this thing about my wings may be alarming, but I love you, and I don't want to see you be hurt, and I would never hurt you."

"I don't know." He said, quietly.

"It's alright," I said. He didn't trust me. "That's alright." I said.

"I need some time to think things through. I'm sorry. Please don't be upset." His voice was a flat monotone, showing no emotion except for fear and sadness.

"Of course, dear. I want for you to understand though, that I love you and always will…" I leaned across him to the point where I was practically laying on top of him and kissed him on the side of the head. "My angel." I played with his hair as he lay there.

"You were mom's angel… and she ended up committing suicide…"

I said nothing.

"What's going to happen…?"

"I'll tell you what's going to happen." I said; he stiffened. "I'm going to be there for you and Gaz and your dad and I'm going to take care of you and your sister, just like Mae asked."

Dib took one shuddering breath. "I'm not going to end up like her. I just won't."

"I know, dear. I know…"

For about two and a half hours, we just lay there with each other, silent.

He was still scared of me, I could feel it, but not fearing for his life at the moment.

Gaz came in the room at one point and threw a pillow on top of us. "What did I just tell you, Dib?" he growled at her brother.

"Mhmm.."

"Fine. It's your funeral." She said. "I'm telling you to snap out of it." She came up to us and smacked the pillow down one more time before leaving.

"Gaz…" I called. She came back to the door.

"What do you want?" she spat.

I got up and walked out of the room with her. "I know that you don't trust me."

"And you're right. I don't trust you with my brother. He's too stupid to see it, but I know that you're not an angel."

"I AM an angel, Gaz…"

"But not the kind that you've made my brother think you are." She said. She was the opposite of her brother right now. She was angry and ready to argue with me for all it was worth.

"Gaz, I'm not sure what's going on, but I would never hurt you or your brother or your father, and you know that. I consider this my family as much as you do. I think-"

"Shut up." She intervened. "I don't really care what you think. But you're going to put distance between Dib and yourself, understand that."

"No. I'm not going to abandon Dib just because you think that I don't love him. He needs an angel, Gaz."

"What he NEEDS is a REAL angel, not some demon with a halo."

"I don't know where you're getting all these ideas from. I've taken care of you and your brother since before you were in gradeskool. What makes you think that I would want to hurt you?"

"If you're supposed to be such a guardian angel, you've done a poor job a protecting him. Same for mom."

"I did all I could do for your mother, Gaz."

"Until you gave up completely with her?"

"You think I didn't CARE about Mae?"

"You couldn't have cared too much about her because she's DEAD now!" she shouted. "And if you think that you're going to do the same thing to Dib, you had BETTER think again!"

She turned and took off.


	7. Paranoia & Detachment

I sighed.

"Allyson?" Dib came out of his room, looking not unlike a lost child.

"Sweetie. C'mere," I said, walking up to him and wrapping my arms around him.

"I love you Ally, I really do… but I don't want to end up like mom."

"If you don't want to then you won't."

I felt his hands on my back. "I don't think Gaz meant what she said… She was just upset, right?"

"I believe so." I replied. We were still standing in the hall. "Come on." I let go. "Let's get out of the house."

A fifteen year old Ally now stood in front of him.

"Yeah. That sounds good…" he smiled at me and we left the house.

Eventually, we found ourselves at the City Centre Mall.

"I'm glad that you're alright with me, now."

"Mhmm…"

"You… ARE alright with me, aren't you?"

Dib didn't say anything as we kept walking. "Well…" he started, "I'm not really sure. I mean… Ally… I'm sorry… I'm just not sure what's going on right now. You're really nice, and I know that you've been really good to me for the last eleven years, but, then there's this whole thing about your wings and about mom…"

"It's okay."

"You're not upset, are you?" he glanced sideways at me. "I really hope you're not."

"No, I'm not. I understand, Dib. I do."

"Glad to hear it."

Dib's cell phone rang. "Uh… just a second, kay?"

I nodded as he walked off.

"Hello? Gaz?" I heard. Darn that extra-sensitive hearing.

"Dib, where are you?"

"Mall… Why? Where are you?"

"I'm at the local library. Dib, where's Allyson?"

"She's with me. Gaz, what's wrong?"

"I'm looking online right now, Dib… Online, in books - Hell, I've even got four different religious bibles in front of me."

"And?"

"Dib, you were right - Ally is a Demon." There was a pause. "Okay: in Judaism and Christianity, black wings often belong to the devil or his followers, demons. Black wings have also said to belong to the Angel of Death – the embodiment of evil itself. I told you that. I think that her being a demon is more likely than her being the angel of Death. Where's Allyson?"

"I said that she's with me!"

The other end went quiet. "Dib." She was waiting for a reply.

"Yes?"

"Leave. Tell her to go away from us and never come back. YOU have to tell her. YOU have to get rid of her before she ends up killing someone!"

"No way! I'm just getting back on terms with Ally. I'm not dead, and I'm not ruining it. All she's done is help us; I can't believe you're SAYING that!"

"Dib, I don't CARE about what ever relationship you have with that demon. Get it out of our lives!"

"It? Gaz – you're being ridiculous!" The line went dead as she hung up. "Gaz? Hello?" He stared at the phone for a moment before sighing and shoving it back into his jeans pocket.

"Everything okay?"

"Mhmm. Yep. Peachy." He said, quickly. I smiled at him, hoping he would calm down enough to look at me again. "Can we… uh… go home now, Ally?"

"Of course, Dear…"

"I think I'm gonna go lie down until Gaz and Dad get home."

"Where is your sister, anyway?"

"Uh… library. She's fine. She just called. At the mall…"

"Alright." I kissed him "'Night."

He went into his room and called his sister. "We just got home, Gaz. I told her that I was going to sleep for a bit."

"You SHOULD have told her OFF!" I heard.

"I can't Gaz."

"You HAVE to, unless you want her to destroy our family!"

"Gaz- I-" he choked.

"Alright, alright. Just wait till I get back. Then we'll get rid of her. Okay?"

"Mhmm."

"Just don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

There was a click as the other line went dead and a soft moan from Dib.

Gaz burst into the house approximately twenty minutes later, steaming.

"Dib's still in his room." I offered.

"What were you able to get at the library?"

"It's like this: Fallen angels and demons are pretty much the same thing. They'll both latch onto anyone they can find. It's easier for a demon to latch onto someone if their angel is missing."

"Mine was…"

There was a rustling of turning pages.

"Death angels," she said, "Are regular angels charged with the task of collecting the condemned. Kind of like a Grim Reaper. They don't attach themselves to anyone, they don't like that. So your angel is most likely hiding something – like the fact that she's a demon."

"Wait – if a demon and a fallen angel is the same thing, why call it by two different names?"

Gaz didn't say anything. "Don't know." She said, at last. "But I swear, if you don't get it out of our lives, I'm going to make YOUR life a living hell long before she can."

I heard Dib sigh and they both got up. Moments later, the door opened, and both children came out. "Ally?"

"Downstairs." I called. He was practically thrown down the stairs by his sister, who followed close behind.

"We, uhm… Well, it's that…. You know what we've been…"

"I heard from down here." I said, gently, getting up and facing them. Gaz stood rigid while her brother seemed to shrink.

"Allyson, let's get one thing straight:" Gaz said, stepping from behind her brother. "Neither of us wants you here. When she died, you might have had mom under the illusion that you're an angel, but we_ know_ what you are. We are not going to let you destroy our family."

"I don't want to. I have no desire to hurt anyone here."

"Like Hell you don't." she spat; I sighed.

"You want me gone, correct?" both children nodded, though Dib seemed hesitant. "Then I will not fight." Gaz looked indifferent, as if she were expecting me to suddenly attack the pair of them. "Remember what I told you, dear," I said to Dib. Gaz looked reproachfully at me for a moment before I made myself disappear. There was one moment of silence between the siblings before Gaz turned on her brother.

"I can't BELIEVE you!" she shouted, making him cringe.

"What?"

"You just let her completely take over you LIFE! That was PATHETIC!!!" she hit him on the arm.

"Gaz…" he whined quietly. Then suddenly, "I'm going out…" he turned to the door and left the house.

Despite everything that they said, I am NOT a demon. I am his angel, and he needed me as much as I needed him… which was a lot, as I have stated before. So, naturally, I could not bring myself to abandon him. I let myself stay with the Membrane family, even though two thirds of them didn't want me there, and the remaining third didn't even know I existed.

I felt bad for the kids, because they really WERE distressed over my wings…

I followed Dib out the door. He may not have needed to know that I was there, but I still needed to be there.

Thankfully, he ended up back home unscathed. Ever day, however, he would leave the house directly after skool, and on the weekends, we would be out for most of the day, usually isolated from most of the population.

After I was gone, Gaz seemed to once again detach herself from her brother's life, uncaring.


	8. Battery & Tears

It was a Tuesday morning, and the kids were leaving for skool, their father already at work.

The bus was painfully crowded and I watched in displeasure as the poor boy was mercilessly shoved and punched as he was minding his own business, trying not to make eye contact with any of them. He knew that if that happened, it would almost guarantee another trip to the hospital.

He looked up as the bus came to a stop. All the kids filed off in groups, most of the jocks hitting him as they passed him, waiting patiently to be able to get up. Finally, The last kid on the bus beside himself passed him and Dib stood. As he approached the doors to the bus, they closed with an airy _shwoo!_

"Hey, wait! I need to get off!" He cried at the driver, who simply ignored him.

The bus lurched forward, away from the skool, causing Dib to fall to the floor of the bus. "HEY!!!" he shouted, thinking perhaps the driver was hearing impaired or something. It wouldn't have surprised him if the driver was SIGHT impaired, too…

Dib sat down in one of the seats until the bus finally came to the next stop. It was out in the middle of nowhere, and if it HAD been inhabited by people at one time, it didn't seem to have been recently. Perhaps even before Mae's time. Maybe before MINE. Dib sighed and started walking through the old little town.

We ended up at a small store on the east side of the town. I certainly hadn't been there before, and I had 'lived' in this town for almost forty years, what with Mae and her son.

He was just walking. I didn't know where he was going. He stopped dead for a beat and then rammed into the building to his left with as much force as his body could exert. There was a sharp crack as he broke through the old plywood covering the cavity that was the door to the old building.

I followed him. "Did you hear that?" I heard from outside. Dib stiffened, absolutely motionless. He was hardly even breathing, anymore.

"Yeah," said another voice coming from outside. "Look! The boards are broken!" there were footsteps. And soon, dark shadows appeared in the doorway.

Dib inched away from the kids.

Oh, please leave, I thought. However, the kids came further into the room. Dib took another step and tripped over a loose floorboard, toppling into a small table and bringing both the table and himself to the ground.

All three kids looked over at where he lay on the floor, motionless. "Who's there?!?" one called.

"Come on, Rob…We should get out of here…" Yes. You should!

"No… There's someone in here." The boy, who was apparently Rob, came up to Dib and me. He knelt down and squinted in the dark for a moment before reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a cigarette lighter. He flicked the lighter on and illuminated about a fifth of the room. "Hey, look who we have here!" Rob said, laughing; Dib tried to stand up and dart away, but the kid grabbed his boot, bringing him back down to the floor with a cracking thud.

The child stood up and dragged Dib across the floor and out into the sunlight.

"What happened to your girlfriend?"

"I broke up with her." Dib kicked his leg out of the grip of the other human child, stood up and started to walk away. Rob, however, grabbed his shoulder so tightly that Dib winced.

"Dib!" I tried to put myself in between the group of kids and Dib, but my body wasn't as efficient as it had been. I passed right through them. The older, surlier looking boy came in front of Dib and held his fist up – he was wearing some kind of copper or brass across his fist. I think I'd heard of them before – brass knuckles, I think?

The kid, in total disregard of me, swung his fist around and connected the cold metal with Dib's face. I tried to grab at the kid, but I kept passing right though him. "You don't think you're going anywhere, do you?" he asked Dib, who was hanging limply in the other boy's grip.

Dib looked up and I could see the blood cascading down his face. I screamed and started tearing at the kid, trying to get a grip, and in the back of my mind, I could almost hear the voice. _'There was an exceptional connection between you and he severed it. You can't help him, now.'_

I kept trying, regardless. I wasn't going to let them keep hurting him. Unfortunately, I had no choice; I couldn't do anything to them. I looked away, unbelieving that I was powerless. I looked up and saw a stack of crates. Even if I couldn't make contact with humans, anymore, I should be able to manipulate inanimate objects. I rushed up the crates that were stacked about six high and knocked them all over, causing the small, deadly group of kids to literally drop Dib and stare blankly at the spot where I was.

"What was that?" one asked.

"Dunno. You think it was someone else?"

"Dunno. Let's get out of here." suggested the kid with the brass knuckles.

And with that, all three kids ran from the small, abandon street.

I got down next to Dib and did the best I could to help him – even though I couldn't touch him, I was still able to do things like lessen the blood flow (don't ask me how…). Dib had already passed out when he saw all the blood on his shirt.

I stayed with him until he came to. He moaned once and sat up, holding his nose. It had been nearly an hour since the kids left the shop. He just sat there, holding his head in pain for nearly fifteen minutes. Eventually, I reached out for his right jeans pocket - his cell phone. I couldn't manipulate or TOUCH living beings anymore, but I could still manipulate inanimate objects, as you already know. Gently, I eased the phone out of his pocket and let it fall to the ground with a soft thud as it hit the dirt.

He picked it up and looked at it for a minute, then flipped the phone open and dialed a number. Gingerly, he put the receiver to his mouth and waited a few beats. "Dad?"

"Son? You know that you're only to contact me on this line in the case of an emergency," Membrane stated.

"Dad, I need you to come pick me up. I, uh… I had an accident, and I lost a bit of blood, I can't really see straight, anyhow." He said into the phone.

The other line went silent for a moment. "I'll be right there son. Keep your phone on, so I can find you, alright?"

Dib nodded. "Alright, dad. Thanks."

Dib sat there in the chalky dirt, breathing shallowly through his mouth. I felt sorry for the poor child. There was so minimal I could do now, it was agony to see him like that. I got as close as I could to him without passing through his body again.

After another half an hour, the professor's car pulled up in the street that Dib and I were sitting in the middle of.

The car stopped and Membrane got out and immediately started inspecting his son, trying to see what had happened, how much damage was done by the accident, and if it could be fixed. Eventually, he asked, "How did this happen, son?"

Dib looked warily up at his father and said and I quote: "I tripped. Did a nice face-plant into the crates back there."

Membrane helped his son off the dirt floor, steadying the poor child as he swayed. As intelligent as I admit Professor Membrane is, he failed to question why, if Dib had hurt himself, and if his shirt was caked with dried blood, and he had CLAIMED to have hurt himself on the crates, why there was no blood on the crates themselves.

While I was not able to keep up with the car itself, I arrived back at the membrane residence before the two men did.

About five minutes after I got there, the professor and Dib came into the house, the latter no longer using his father as a support. "Honestly, you NEED to be more careful about where you're going, son."

"I know."

"I have to get back to the labs. Do you think you'll be alright?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine."

"Good. Just rest for a while and you'll feel better." Membrane said as he headed back out the front door.

Dib watched his father leave the house before heading up to his bedroom.

It had been at least three hours since Dib had gotten home, and he was still in his room, just looking at things, rearranging and stuff like that. He even tried to leave his room once or twice, but then decided against it.

Dib looked out his bedroom window to see if his father's car was still there - Nothing; he was alone.

I sat beside him, whishing more than anything at the moment to be seen.

I called his name out several times, but he couldn't hear me.

Dib had shut her out of his life as completely as any human can. He had done it to protect his family, but was now regretting it – Allyson had been the only one to ever really listen to him, angel, human, or demon. And now, without her around, there was absolutely no one.

I tried to touch him, but simply passed right through the boy, like I would have with any other human.

Tears started streaming past the boy's glasses as he sat on the bed. It wasn't Ally's fault. All she had done was try to protect him and make him feel loved. HE was the one who had told her to get out of their lives out of pure fear - a fear that had been installed after eleven years of her nurture and caring.

"Please, dear." I said to him. 'Please realize that I never left you. That I never would."

He couldn't hear me.

He was completely alone. Especially today, because dad was at work and Gaz was still in skool.

Don't…

Dib got up and headed to the bathroom, with me close behind. Tears still streamed down his face as he looked in the mirror. He hadn't cried since the night his mother committed suicide.

Dib wiped away at the make-up that was on his face. After all these years, he still needed to conceal the bruises. Angry red welts showed on his face and neck and he rubbed.

Dib looked suddenly very angry. And he was. Angry at Mae, angry at Ally and Gaz and dad, angry at himself. He brought his fist back and slammed it into the mirror in front of him, which turned into a million glittering shards raining down on him.

I gasped, wishing I could do something. Eventually, Dib stood up, no longer shielding himself from the downpour of glass.

Dib looked at his hand. Little bits of glass were embedded into the bloody cuts.

Had it really come to that?

For the first time in quite a long time, I was scared.

He knew that if it had, and if he did, there was no going back.

But there was also no regret, no remorse, and no pain. At least, not afterwards.

"I'm here, Dib. My angel, please!" I sobbed. "Just look and you will SEE me!"

Dib, after a moment of consideration, started picking up the shards of glass; he was shaking so bad that he dropped most of them back onto the floor. I stood over him the entire time, talking, telling him to just want me to be there.

But he wouldn't; I knew he wouldn't. My angel was so convinced that he was alone on Earth, the fact that I could still be and was there would not even cross his mind.

At last, all of the larger shards were picked up off the floor. His hand was throbbing now, because of the glass that had been embedded in his fist, but he ignored it as he picked out one large shard of glass.

The tears had stopped, and the shaking had subsided. All that was left was himself and the glass. Dib sat himself in the bathtub, looking at the glass.

For a moment, he considered leaving a note before going… and then remembered how his father would sit in his room for days at a time, simply reading his mother's last words.

No. "Better to just… get it over with, right?" he asked no one. Not that their opinion would have mattered, anyway.

"Wrong. Please don't do this." I said, trying to get a grip on him, shake him, anything!

Dib held the glass tightly in one hand, bringing blood where the glass cut into his hand. "With any luck, it'll be over before they get back."

'Dib, please, don't do this."

But he couldn't hear her. Dib brought the glass to his wrist, holding it as one would hold a knife ready to stab someone. With an angry force, the boy yanked the glass across his wrist, bringing blood. And again.

And again.

All three cuts were in the same position.

He was drenched in blood by the time he stopped and looked.

Dib watched for a moment as the blood gushed from his wrist, staining his blue shirt a deep mud color. All the blood… his blood… He got lightheaded. If he had a problem with large amounts of blood, why had he done it_ this _way?

Dib passed out in the bathtub, and within twenty minutes, was dead.

I kneeled at the edge of the bathtub, crying. He wasn't supposed to have done that, I knew it. He was supposed to have lived a long and happy life, gotten married, had kids…

But now those dreams and that future were being carried with all the blood down the drain.

I couldn't bear it. As an angel, I had worked with many deaths, some of which had in fact been suicides, but this was… too overwhelming.

He was only fifteen.

And he had been mistaken.

He had not been alone.

Allyson looked once at her fallen angel, looked to the sky, and simply willed herself to no longer exist.


	9. Never Alone

I waited for you today  
But you didn't show  
No no no  
I needed You today  
So where did You go?  
You told me to call  
Said You'd be there  
And though I haven't seen You  
Are You still there?

I cried out with no reply  
And I can't feel You by my side  
So I'll hold tight to what I know  
You're here and I'm never alone

And though I cannot see You  
And I can't explain why  
Such a deep, deep reassurance  
You've placed in my life

We cannot separate  
'Cause You're part of me  
And though You're invisible  
I'll trust the unseen

I cried out with no reply  
And I can't feel You by my side  
So I'll hold tight to what I know  
You're here and I'm never alone

We cannot separate  
You're part of me  
And though You're invisible  
I'll trust the unseen

I cried out with no reply  
And I can't feel You by my side  
So I'll hold tight to what I know  
You're here and I'm never alone


	10. Intermission

Foreword:

A special thanks for InvaderBlunt, for the vote to merge the two stories!

Again, I'd like to re establish that I am an Agnostic. The views expressed in this fiction are not my religion, nor am i trying to force these views on anyone else. It is loosely based, and mostly made up. If anythting, any of the 'religious content' bothers you for not being correct, I can not stress how sorry I am to have caused such uncomfort. But again, this story is entirely made up and in no way is meant to be a Bible of any sort. This is simply entertainment, both for the readers and myself.

Also, if you're reading this: Tib loves you! It means so much to me that you're taking YOUR TIME to read something I wrote!

Now, on to the next part: "Poltergeist."


	11. Poltergeist

"Good morning, sunshine." I heard. "Did you enjoy Milan?"

There was a cool liquid feeling and I opened my eyes. My last life had been pleasant, as a middle-class European girl, who eventually became a designer in Milan. But once I was back in my body, all the memories of every past life I'd had came flooding back to me as cold as my surroundings. Including the life before Germany and Milan.

Still, I was curious to find out where I was headed next. Where I was now, there was nothing. Just that cool liquid, and a rushing feeling inside me. I remember the first time I found myself there, I had been so frightened. But now, it seemed almost natural.

Even tough I didn't know where I was going, I willed myself to be there. I needed to get back to the human world, go on with my job, regardless of what had happened.

In case you're less than knowledgeable about the situation,, let me fill you in: my name is Allyson. I am, for lack of better term, an angel, and I stay with people their whole lives, protect them, and help them cross over when they die. It's all a simple process, really.

However, there are times where the person in question is a particular case; where they can hear and see and interact with their angel. It doesn't happen often… It's only happened to me once, and it was disastrous, as are most of those relationships.

You see, I'm not exactly the stereotypical image of an angel… my wings are as black as charcoal. My last human and his sister had a problem with that. All had gone well for nearly ten years, but after a few accidents concerning the other kids at Skool, they became detached from me. My child, so distressed over the fact that my wings were black, willed me out of his life, almost completely. However, as I have said before, I stay with my human for their entire life. There was no way he was actually going to get rid of me. Though he had thought that I was gone completely, I was still there, but it was not enough. One day, after a brutal beating from a group of kids outside of town, my human got his father to bring him home, where he was alone to contemplate his current situation, and seemed too depressed. After a short mishap with the bathroom mirror, my child ended up killing himself in the bathtub.

You'd think that it wouldn't phase me. That I'd seen enough suicides to have been desensitized to them. But that was different. I had had a special connection with him, and had gotten to know him, and then he was dead.

Which is why I was so hurt on the inside when I saw where I ended up, where my next human was living.

The Membrane household had never really been as busy as it was these days – a flourishing family lived there, Louie, Kiff and Mizzie, the three kids, one of which I was to serve as an angel for, and the parents, Kap and Mae.

It just so happened that afterward Gaz had moved out of the house and started her own family, naming her only daughter after her mother, Mae Membrane, who eventually married and had moved back to the old Membrane residence.

Even though all five were downstairs, I couldn't help but wander up the steps that I'd floated up and down for nine years with my dear child, Dib Membrane. It all felt so surreal. I'd never thought I'd be back to this place, not after what had happened.

I passed Gaz's old room, and the joint bathroom I turned towards his bedroom door and stopped. His door was… gone.

I floated there for a moment before floating through the drywall, into the closed off cavity that was Dib's old room.

So, they'd closed it off. Left everything exactly the way it'd been fifty years ago, when I was 'living' here. All of Dib's books were arranged on the shelf, just as he had had them, all his computer equipment accordingly.

I touched the mouse, and the computer awoke, after decades of hibernation. Membrane had left everything the way his son had.

There was a heavy feeling in the air the moment the computer came back on. It made me feel sick, the way the air in the remote room seemed to move, even though there was no visible source of airflow, and there was no air circulating through the vent in the ceiling.

I couldn't stay in the room another second – something about it made my very bones ache, not with fatigue, but with the same pain I'd felt the last time I'd been in this house.

I phased back out of the room.

"Don't worry, child. Things will be different this time," I heard, "Your human will never even know you're there."

I folded my arms across my stomach, floating back down to the living area. "I don't know… It's just this place. There's something about this house… it doesn't feel right."

"Heh, relax, Allyson. The odds of Mizzie Being like him are absolutely astronomical."

"Not too astronomical," I argued, "She's related to him, after all."

There was a chuckle in the back of my mind, but otherwise no reply.

Mizzie was apparently my child. She was an adorable blonde-pigtailed little girl in pink overalls who was playing with a few dress up dolls in the center of the living room. I sat to watch the three kids. Louie and Kiff, Mizzie's older brothers, were both on the couch opposite me, one reading and the other watching television.

It was remarkable how much they all looked like Membranes.

I looked over at the two adults; Mae looked so much like her mother. Kap was headed out of the house as I turned.

"…and we here at Mysterious Mysteries have always known that answer to be a resounding… maybe." I froze mid thought upon hearing this. How many evenings had I spent in this same livingroom watching Mysterious Mysteries with Dib? Impossible to answer, other than 'every week night at nine for ten years'. I looked at the television screen. The show was now being hosted by an elderly Caucasian man with a receding hairline, who was wearing the standard Mysterious mysteries asphalt-colored suit.

I swallowed hard and turned my body to face the show. After so many years, nearly half a century, it was still running. I was almost surprised.

Kiff seemed deeply interested in the show. I frowned, and then forced myself to relax. It was just a television show. No harm done.

"Nobody knows for sure what the ghost of companion Place really wants…" the host's astoundingly dictional voice got smaller and smaller as Kiff turned the volume down. "You know," the boy said quietly, "this place is haunted." When he received no reply from either sibling, he nudged his brother. "Lou - Did'ya hear? I said this is a haunted house!"

The little boy in the blue sweater simply rolled his eyes and lifted his book up further in front of his face, sighing. Mizzie however, seemed interested. "Are you sure?" she asked, her blue eyes wide with fascination.

Kiff sat up from his reclined position. "Totally! Don't you know what happened?" the smallest shook her head. "Remember nana Gaz? She had a brother, ya know." My breath hitched. "He died in this house. Killed himself." Kiff hadn't risen his voice over a whisper. "Even the kids around the neighborhood know it. They say his tortured soul still resides in this. Very. House."

"Nawh- Uh!" Mizzie cried loudly. "Lou, tell him he's lying!"

Louie dog eared the book he was reading and set it down. "Miz, there's nothing to worry about, Ghosts don't exist."

"You're just afraid to admit it – you're living with a ghost."

Louie frowned at his brother. "I am NOT, because there's no such thing! Just ask Mom!"

"Ask mom what?" Mae said, coming into the living room, sitting down at the edge of the couch I was on, closer to Mizzie.

"About ghosts! Tell Kiff they're not real."

Mae's soft expression suddenly became weary, and she sighed, as though they'd been through this many times. "Kiffton, dear, why?" she asked.

Kiff's shoulders slumped as he clicked the television off. 'There. Ghosts and Monsters aren't real. I know." He said flatly.

"Come on, Kiff. Those things are silly. Wouldn't you much rather be interested in something more real?"

"Sure. I'm going taking my real bike to Nik's house." Kiffton stood and headed out, grabbing his coat on the way.

"Don't worry, mom," Louie said once Kiff was out the door, "He'll grow out of it." And he resumed reading.

"I sure hope so."

Unfortunately, Mae was quite mistaken. The paranormal is very real. Take me for example. And truly, there's nothing _para_normal about it. Everything that humans consider to fall under this category is all a very natural part of the world.

A very famous friend of mine put the way of the world into an easily understood phrase: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

There's an opposite for everything. Life and death, up and down, on and off, Angels and Demons. But there's always a medium. There would have to be, or else the extremes would be too unstable; Sleep, falling, that colorful moot channel on the television, and of course, Ghosts.

I know there's a bit of a negative stigma attached to the term, but let me assure you, ghosts are not evil in any sense. Ghosts are, as I have said before, the medium between positive Angel energy and chaotic Demon energy, the latter of which humans also seem to have a problem with. Demons are not evil, either, though they do often stimulate what humans perceive as negative situations. They are, in fact, learning experiences and they help move events forward. Without Demons, there would be no change, no progress.

But I digress.

Kiff didn't get back until around seven o clock that evening, when Mizzie and Louie were already asleep in their room.

Again, I found myself in the forbidden, sealed off shrine-room. I couldn't help it – the place made me feel hollow, empty… but at the same time, brought me peace. I couldn't explain it.

That was when Kiff shut his door in the next room, breaking the silence of the house, however slight, startling me. I spun around to face the direction of the noise, my robes catching a small pencil cup that was placed precariously on the desk I was floating next to. The fall caused a clatter louder than Kiff's door.

I hastened out of the room to find Mizzie in her doorway, half asleep. "Kiff?" he voice was small and frightened. "Was that you?"

"No, Miz, go to sleep," he called quietly through his closed door.

The little girls stood there for a moment before turning away, rubbing here eyes as she crawled back into her bed.

I followed her into the room and watched her lay down and pull the covers over her head, scared by the shadows that were cast by her nightlight. I knelt down next to her and removed the glowing Halo from around my head and released it above hers, letting it fall gently into place. Within moments, her nerves calmed and, given the late hour, she fell fast asleep.

I stayed with the pair for about forty five minutes before heading back into Dib's room and beginning to clean up the mess I'd made.

I reached for the last pencil underneath his desk and suddenly felt sick to my core. My fingertips were nearly touching the orange mechanical pencil, but I let it be and sat up.


	12. Apparitions

There was a yelp from Kiff's room. I sprung up and floated through the wall, directly into the teenager's room. He was up, standing in the corner of the room, on his bed, white as a sheet.

The rest of the family followed in afterwards. "Kiff, honey, what happened?"

The boy was nearly hysterical. "There! Something – THERE!" he was pointing towards the closet.

Kirk walked over to the double doors and slid the closet open. "See? Nothing."

I frowned. That wasn't entirely correct. There was something unusual about the interior of the closet. Something had moved, like a deer darting out of a meadow after the first report ofa hunter's gun, only our deer was transparent.

My core-felt sickness grew deeper, if possible, even as I put Kiff to sleep the same way I had Mizzie.

"These kids are going to be a handful in their own," I heard. "Even compared to little Membrane.

"I hope not," I said out loud. "I pray that I never have another case even close to my Dib."

"Oh, don't say that. Sure, it was unfortunate, but wasn't it a nice change from being a wallflower?

"I choose not to answer that."

"Suit yourself." The voice said, indifferently.

I stayed the better part of the night in Kiff's room, half hoping for there to be no more problem, half hoping for there to be some other incidence of abnormal activity in the room. However, I decided that my presence was much better utilized in Mizzie and Louie's room.

No more ruckus that night.

The kids got up the next morning around 9 AM (they were out of skool for the moment, seeing as how it was the middle of summer.) and filed downstairs.

Mae was up, and Kirk had already left for work. What exactly the husband did for a living, I am still unsure.

"Morning, kids. Mail's here." Mae reported. One the kitchen counter were three postcards addressed from the skool system, each indicating the corresponding child's new teacher.

"Who'd you get?" Louie peeked over his sister's card. "Mrs. Rodriguez? Lucky. I got Mr. Welson. What about you, Kiff?" Even though Kiff was a full four years ahead of his siblings, they seemed to take a genuine interest in who he got as a teacher for the skoolyear. However, the older boy hadn't yet bothered to look at the postcard that was addressed to him. Realizing this, he picked up the card and read it aloud.

"Mr. Sherwood." He wrinkled his nose. Obviously, Mr. Sherwood was not one of the favorable 6th grade teachers.

"I was thinking about going downtown today, what do you guys think?" Mae asked her children as she stirred a cup of coffee.

Mizzie's eyes sparkled. "We're going into the city?" she gasped before darting up the stairs singing 'city ride, city time.' After all, she was only six. To a six year old girl, the city is a magical place of steel mountains and high overpasses. Ah, paradise.

The other two followed, though not as enthusiastically.

Mae sat in the livingroom and clicked on the morning news. The reporter was a young woman with a perpetual plastic surgery smile. "Also, the FOURTH serpent sighting this month up by lake Michigan." She said, melodramatically.

"Rubbish," the mother retorted, clicking off the channel.

So, Mae obviously didn't accredit much to the paranormal. Good. Perhaps, I thought, she instilled the same idea into her children, which meant that even if they _did _catch wind of my presence, that they would scarcely believe it.

I smiled as I went upstairs to join the children. Even though I was really _Mizzie's_ angel, I took a liking to all three kids, as usually happens where there are multiple children in the household.

I checked for the kids in both bedrooms – no one to be found in either. My heart sank as I approached the only other room on the second floor: the bathroom. As I moved forward, Miz turned around and exited, leaving her two brothers to finish, and walking right through me. I watched the little girl continue to her and Louie's room without so much as flinching.

I turned back to the two boys still in the bathroom after she'd disappeared behind the doorframe. I swallowed hard and took a step forward, onto the cold tiled floor.

Memories flooded back to me as I entered the room, after the mental dam broke away, though it was not what I was expecting. As I stood at the door, I suddenly had an image of a young boy in blue pajamas kneeling on the floor, gripping the porcelain rim of the toilet, his head half ducked. His hands seemed clammy, and when he sat back, I could see a shining layer of perspiration on his deathly pale face.

That was the two weeks that Dib had had the stomach flu. The poor child was left at home daily, spent most of his time either in the bed or in the spot I saw him then.

I remembered the sleepless nights that we'd spent up together, his pain subdued, if only fractionally, by the effects of the halo. He was only eight at the time, and I'd only known him for two year, but never had I felt more maternally towards the child. I missed those times, when he and I had been the best of friends. He was so little, and without anything even vaguely resembling a real family. I moved forward, kneeling by him, taking care not to touch the apparition.

The boy's image disappeared as Mizzie's piercing scream cut through the air from the next room. I tore away, however reluctantly, from the bathroom to see her bounding down the steps to meet her mother, who was at the bottom. "There's someone up there!" she cried, nearly hysterical and wide-eyed. "Mommy, there's someone up in my room!"

The woman reached for her keys, which facilitated a small bottle of mace, before stating up the stairs.

I myself went into the room before hand, but was quite shocked to find absolutely nothing. Not a book or paper out of place from the way the kids had left it. Furthermore, the window was locked securely. I checked the closet to find the same order. Mae eventually made it onto the landing outside of the door to the little girl's room. Her voice boomed as she spoke to the intruder. "Whoever you are, I'll give you thirty seconds to get out of my kids' bedroom. I'm warning you, I'm armed." And it's no joke for those who laugh. Mace is a completely different substance form pepper spray – much more potent and it burns your very skin if you're unlucky enough to come in contact with it.

When she received no reply, Mae entered the bedroom to find everything accordingly.

"Are you sure you weren't just seeing things, Miz?" Louie asked as he and Kiff entered the room, the latter's red and black hair half damp with gel.

"Yes, I'm sure!" she assured him. "I saw him! I was looking in the mirror and he was standing right behind me!"

"Well, whoever it was, they're gone." Mae said, though I could tell she was just as concerned about the locked windows as I was.

She and Louie went downstairs, leaving Kiff, Mizzie and myself alone in the bright green room.

"I _know_ I wasn't seeing things," she protested quietly. "He was right there." She pointed halfheartedly to a spot opposite the mirror.

"What'd he look like?" Kiff asked casually, sitting himself on Louie's bed. Perhaps he thought that the intruder was nothing more than one of his friends come to pull a prank on him, but simply getting the wrong room and panicking.

"He was older than you," she said, "and he had on a blue shirt, with ketchup all over it. And it was all over his hands and face, too."

"If it was all over his hands, he would've left a mark somewhere." Kiff said, nonchalantly. "Anything else?"

"He was wearing glasses…and his hair was weird. Not weird like yours. It looked like a pointy number seven."

My jaw dropped, my stomach taking on that nauseous feeling again.

"And he looked kinda sad," she finished her description.

Something seemed to register with Kiff, because his eyes widened and he bolted out of the room and flew down the stairs. "Mom!" he called.

Mae turned around in time to stop her son from careening into the table. "What?"

"Miz saw Uncle Dib!" he shouted.

The woman frowned and stared at her son for a long time. "Excuse me?"

"Nana Gaz told us that she had a brother, right? And he was in some of those old photos she showed us, and Miz just described him _perfectly_." He argued.

"Mizzie, is that true? Are you _sure _that's what you saw?" She asked the little girl, who was having to reach above her head to hold onto the banister as she descended the stairs.

"I…think so." Miz said quietly, once she had reached the bottom. "I might be wrong. I didn't really… get a good look at him."

Kiff gaped at his sister. "You're kidding right? You just described him perfectly!" he repeated. "It matches exactly what Uncle Dib looked like before he died! Tell her the truth, Miz. It was Uncle Dib's ghost! Nana Gaz even said it herself, he'd died here!"

"Kiff, enough! You're scaring your sister, and frankly, me too! Now, I want you three back upstairs and ready in 15 minutes. Go ahead!"

Sullenly, the teenager followed his siblings up the steps. Leave it to Gaz to tell her grandkids that their late uncle had killed himself in the house they were living in. If only Kiff had taken a moment to consider that the 'ketchup' on the apparition might not have been as innocent as his little sister believed it to be. Thank goodness he didn't, or else he and Mizzie might have thrown themselves into a tizzy over it.

"Oh, dear. It seems there's still a bit of trouble buzzing around in your head."

"My child just had a vision of her deceased 15-year-old great-uncle covered in blood. Of course my mind is going to be troubled." I answered aloud.

"Even _with_ the Halo? Hmm… sometimes I wonder how effective those things really are… Then again, you always have been dreadfully worrisome." The voice laughed.

I moaned. So now, I had to keep those three out of trouble, and worry about Dib trying to contact his family.


	13. Gone

Late that night, Mizzie snuck out of her room and into Kiff's. He took his earbuds out and looked at her. "Why'd you lie to mom like that, this morning? You made me look like a total idiot and now I'm grounded for a week."

"I'm sorry, Kiff. But you _know _Mommy and Daddy don't like things like that. Ghosts and monsters and other scary stuff…"

"I know, but you shouldn't lie just to make them feel better. I'd bet ANYTHING that this place really IS haunted!" he exclaimed.

After a minute of thought, Mizzie spoke again, "You think? Was Uncle Dib _nice_?" a fleeting expression of concern crossed her young face.

"I dunno. I've never met the guy before." Kiff said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, shrugging nonchalantly, clearly not sharing his younger sister's worry. "But he's been here longer than _we_ have. I'm sure if he wanted to hurt us, he would have, by now."

But that wasn't true. Dib hadn't been there as long as the kids, just as long as I had been there. That first day, when I woke up the computer, when I had felt sick, felt the strange air flow, and the uneasy energy – that was how long Dib had been here.

After Miz was safely tucked away in her bed and asleep, I went to finish cleaning up the strewn pencils in Dib's room.

I had gotten on my hands and knees and reached underneath the desk for the orange mechanical pencil I'd left there that morning; I stopped.

It was gone. And, I noticed, so was the pencil cup I'd left on the floor. I half stood and saw it sitting on the desk, in the exact spot it had been before I knocked it over. All pens and pencils accounted for, as if it hadn't happened.

Slowly, I stood, my gaze locked on the pencil cup.

There was a sharp pain in my shoulder. I spun and looked down, spying a book that had landed at my feet. Only, I was on the side of the room opposite the bookshelf. I stooped down and picked up the hard cover bound book, replacing it in the only empty slot amongst the other books.

Another fell off the shelf. And another, until they were falling four and five at a time. Soon, the bookshelf was empty and there was a pile of books at my feet. I took it all silently, if not broken-heartedly. There was no arguing it, Dib wanted me gone. He wouldn't be throwing books at me to say hello, I was sure of that.

But, as you may know, I cannot do that. And by that, I do not mean that I _choose _not to leave, but that I was literally bound there.

But he would have none of that.

Daily, he would slam doors, make loud reports in the middle of the night, hide the family's belongings and such – a regular poltergeist.

The Family took it fairly well. Mae, Kirk and Louie ultimately ignored Dib's antics, or brushed them off as something else entirely. Kiffton was rather intrigued, and Mizzie simply thought her deceased uncle was lonely and wanted someone to play with.

This went on for a good length of time, but it wasn't until the middle of September that he truly took it too far.

The family had been sitting down for supper when the toaster started levitating; I had to fight to keep it on the counter and at least somewhat unnoticeable. At last, it hit the counter with a _clank!_ attracting the extremely unwanted attention of the adults. "What was that?" Kirk asked, voicing his wife's thoughts.

"Dunno. Sounded like something fell." Kiff said as he got up and came into the kitchen, investigating.

There was an electronic beep as the oven turned on; the temperature dial rose exponentially. Kiff exclaimed as he tried to turn off the oven. There was a rattle from all over the kitchen. Every cabinet and drawer opened simultaneously. One by one, the glasses by the wine racks shattered, each with a _pop!_ as if they'd exploded. Soon, the bottles on the rack followed suit, spilling the blood red wine across the tiled floor, staining the walls and dripping off the counters and into the opened storage.

The faucet exploded; all the doors and drawers started performing as if on cue.

Kiff ducked as the glassware started falling off the shelves like bombs, shattering all around him as they hit the flood, glass shards jumping up at the boy. He ran back to the table as I made way into the middle of the kitchen. "ENOUGH!" I shouted.

In all my anger and surprise, I emit an energy that I wasn't even aware I was capable of producing.

He was gone.

I could feel it.

The family stood huddled together opposite the kitchen as I slowly started to put things back to order. Doors and Drawers were closed, glass put in broken piles on the floor and countertops, and the faucet was turned off to where all that remained was a trickle of water to remind us just how demolished the kitchen truly was.

"You may have won the battle, but you're still waging the war. He may not be in the house anymore, but he's not gone, and he's trying to get back. He just doesn't know how."

"Good. I don't know how much more of this they can take," I said, with a glance over at the family, who was slowly recovering from the shock of the evening's events. "To be honest, I can't be sure how much more _I_ can take." I sighed. More and more I'd been having these internal conversations with an invisible entity.

I wasn't sure if this was insanity by trauma or an actual, sentient being I was talking to. Either way, it didn't really matter. My business was with the family.

"Have some faith in yourself," the voice scoffed, "You're an _angel_ for goodness' sake!

"And I'm doing a phenomenal job. My last two humans ended up committing suicide, and my current family is being tormented by my last child's ghost."

"Don't be like that. You can't _control_ the affairs of the humans. You can simply protect and aide them. Much less can you control ghosts."

I sighed again. "I wish I could at least talk to him. It's been so long… I'd give anything to apologize…"

"Apologize for what? You simply did what he bade you do. He asked you to go, and you took leave. What on earth do you have to apologize for?" the voice laughed.

"For leaving him," I answered simply.

"But you didn't leave him. You were there the entire time, were you not? He could have seen you any time he pleased. How do you figure you carry the burden?"

I laughed, smiling meekly. "If there was one thing Dib taught me, it's that sometimes, logic can't explain everything."

"That's silly" it said, flatly.

I didn't reply, and that was the end of the conversation.

Sorry that was so short, my lovelies. So, what's your verdict on the situation?

~TD


	14. Exorcism

You know, it's said that you worry the most at night because there's nothing to preoccupy your mind before you fall asleep? Well, it's a thousand times worse with Angels. At least for humans, there's the prospect of a deep sleep and a fresh start the next day. But these things kept going through my mind as I paced back an forth between the kids' rooms that night.

I had struck him out of his own home. Knowing that was the worst, especially since I felt so badly for him in the first place.

Dib's activity was fairly violent, and Kiff's having been caught in the middle of it all made me worry. If my poltergeist got any more aggressive, he truly could hurt someone. I knew he meant no harm towards the family, but I didn't want to take the chance and wait until someone is hospitalized, so I did what I could.

Which brings me back to the fact that I'd stuck him out of the house. Ghosts, being as earth-bound as they are, where would he – where could he – go? I know there are very few ways to hurt a ghost, but what if Dib ended up in a place where the residents exorcized him? Exorcism: think of it as a very complicated surgery. If I, an experienced surgeon, were to perform the surgery, the results would be different if, say, the operation was done by a freelance surgeon, the exorcist.

Mizzie woke up, rolling onto her back and stretching. "Good morning, uncle Dib," she said, clearly still half asleep, more for the fact that Dib wasn't actually there. I couldn't help but smile – she was so sweet, so naive

However, the family would quickly learn that the paranormal activity was reduced drastically, nearly non-existent, if it weren't for my being there. Nonetheless, they were cautious, and Mae soon rid the house of wine bottles and placed all glass behind locked cabinets.

I felt terribly for the family. Three fifths of them still refused to believe that there truly was a paranormal entity in the house. Kiff had come to resent his uncle, and Mizzie was disheartened that her uncle wouldn't play with her anymore.

And everything was quiet.

Some three months after the kitchen demolition, Mae took another due trip into the city.

When we arrived at the house, Mizzie ran off, up to her room, and Louie went into the lower level of the house, which, with the death of the Doctor, had the lab removed from the basement to be placed in Carnegie Hall, the room later remodeled to suit the family's needs.

Mae and Kirk whispered in the corner, Kiff sitting in the living room.

"Kiffton, hon…" Mae started, "is everything alright?"

"Yeah, fine," he answered passively, not looking at either of his parents.

"You're not still worried about the kitchen are you? It's done; we fixed the kitchen."

"No, mom… it's not the kitchen. Dib hasn't done anything in a really long time. I'm starting to get worried."

"That's because Uncle Dib isn't with us. There's no such thing as ghosts, dear.

I smiled wryly. Dib would be proud of his great nephew.

I heard Mizzie laugh from upstairs, so I went to check up on her: She was sitting in the middle of the room, holding a drawing pad, laughing. I smiled at the sight.

"This," she said, turning the page and holding it up, "was from our trip to New York City. Mommy _said _it was for fun, but I think it was really for daddy's work. It's okay, though. We still had fun." I frowned slightly through my smile. She laughed, "Yes?" there was a pause. "I missed you too, uncle Dib." My smile dropped.

"Dib?" I asked, moving sheepishly into the room.

"What's wrong?" she asked, before sitting quietly for a minute or two as Dib explained. She sifted once, but that was about it, before exclaiming, "She _is_?" and standing up, waving aimlessly. "Hi, Miss Ally!" she called. Suddenly, her hand was pulled down by an invisible force.

"Dib?" I asked tentatively. "Please. Let me know if you can hear me – I need to talk to you." I waited; no reply came. "Dib, please. I mean it, I want to settle things before someone gets hurt. Let me help-"

There was a booming from the bathroom, drawing both Mizzie and myself to the tiled room. I choked back a cry as I saw the state of the bathroom.

Dib had shattered the mirror, like he had once before, with glass adjourning the marble sink and blue tiled floor. Furthermore, small pieces of the broken ceramic containers that had been sitting on the counter were now mixed with the glittering shards on the floor. The shower curtain suddenly flew open of its own accord.

Mizzie looked frightened, hiding behind the doorframe.

"Dib, stop! You're scaring her!" I shouted, venturing into the chaotic room.

The shampoo and soap were thrown off the shelves in the shower, hitting the opposite wall, denting and chipping it, scratching the paint off, to give it an old, poorly-tended-to look. The sink faucet and showerhead exploded simultaneously. Bits of metal flew off, a few rouge shards grazing Mizzie's skin. The cabinets and drawers opened and closed.

Mizzie let go of her arm, her tiny hand red with blood from her scrape. Immediately, all activity ceased. Even the broken water piped stopped flowing.

"See there?" I shouted at him. "If you choose not to listen to me, someone is going to be severely injured, mark my words!" Again, there was no reply. "Dib, I know you can hear me." I said, softer. "Please, stop."

The shower curtain slowly drew shut.

At my feet, Mizzie's eyes were filling up with tears. "Were you and Ally having a fight?" she asked quietly, her voice wavering.

Mae came bounding up the stairs. "Mizzie, what was – oh, my god." She stopped as her gaze fell upon the wet, shattered wreckage that had been the bathroom. And almost immediately, she dropped down to her daughter. "Pumpkin, are you okay?" she asked, looking her daughter over. "What happened?" Mae kneeled through me to get to Mizzie.

"Dib and Ally were having a fight," the little girl replied, wiping the sink water and tears out of her eyes. Mizzie was one easily upset as a child.

"What?" the mother asked, confused.

"Dib was telling me that he knows an angel who's name is Ally, and now she's my angel, and they were arguing. She explained. "But it's okay now."

Mae held her daughter's arm for a moment before picking her up. "Miz, what happened, I mean it!"

"I just told you," she whined.

I smiled sadly. Mizzie reminded me so much of her uncle at that age. Kiff did too. I could only pray that they'd end up differently.

"Fine," Mae sighed.

Things seemed to quiet down after that. Dib didn't like the fact that he had hurt her; he had been trying to protect her from me. Granted, he never actually addressed me about it, but the intentions were clear. These kids were his family, after all: His niece and her kids, all living with what he perceived as a threat.

At this point, I was as mentally exhausted as I could get. Dib's after-life was in danger. But if events like these persisted, so was the kids' well-being.

I knew that Dib was fully aware of the consequences of acting up again. Too many nights, we watched "Mysterious Mysteries of Strange Mysteries" having to do with exorcisms for him not to.

He would play with Mizzie everyday, when ever possible. She'd tell him about her day, and in turn, he'd shield her from me, never responding when I talked to him, even though I knew he could hear me. For a few months this went on, Mizzie and Dib grew closer and closer – Mae seemed so uncomfortable whenever her daughter brought up the subject.

I thought back to Dib's childhood, as I floated in the doorway, watching her play. I thought back to when his father used to watch us play together, only seeing his son, and, watching Mizzie, I imagined that that must have been what it looked like to Membrane

I missed the time Dib and I'd spent together, even all the little mishaps, the sick nights… I missed _him_.

My thoughts were interrupted by Mae as she walked through me into the room and took Mizzie.

I stood and followed her downstairs, as I assume Dib had as well.

What awaited us downstairs shocked me: Two college aged kids wearing beige trench coats and business hats stood in the foyer. "Why don't you show us where the first sighting of your ghost happened, ma'am?"

Mae nodded and she and the rest of the troop climbed back up the stairs. "We weren't exactly sure what happened the first time, but my oldest son, he says that he felt something in his room, and that it moved."

We all huddled into Kiff's room. One of the men took out a tool, reading it. "Yeah… definitely something here."

"Dib!" I whispered harshly (whereas the needle spiked off the dial.) "Downstairs, now!"

Unfortunately, there was no way I could tell whether or not the boy joined me in leaving.

Soon, the group came downstairs. "So, do you think there's a way to stop the activity?" Mae asked, from upstairs.

"First, I think it would be best to know what you're dealing with. And by the sounds of it, you've got a poltergeist. Now, your daughter claims that this is the spirit of _your-_" the man pointed to Mae, "uncle. If that's the case, you might want to reconsider the exorcism."

"No. I want it out of my house, and away from my children."

The man and the woman from the agency looked at each other. "Well, if that's what you want, then why don't we get started?" she said, after a moment's hesitation.

I turned away from the group. "Dib, come _on_! You know it won't take long to perform the exorcism. Please, let's go!" I held my hand out as the man took out of his pack a flask and a holy bible. "You and I can go somewhere and settle our differences once and for all!_ Please!_" I felt myself nearing hysteria. We both needed to get out, lest we be exorcised, which wouldn't exactly be beneficial to our health.

"Do you have any of the deceased's belongings?"

"No, not really. There's a room upstairs, it was his, but it's sealed off."

The woman pulled a sledgehammer out of her pack. "That's alright."

"Oddly enough, I'm not alright with you busting a people-sized hole in my wall." Mae said.

"Well, then, we'll just have to perform the exorcism on the foundations of the house. That should still take care of the problem." The man said, taking the hammer from his partner.

As the three bickered back and forth, I tried to get the both of us out of there. "Dib!" I cried, stressing my hand, not knowing where he was.

All at once, I felt something hit my palm, and there was a fantastic eruption of energy as he grabbed my hand.


	15. Ammends

I looked around in confusion, stretching my wings. The blast produced by the connection of counter energies had thrown us straight into limbo.

The place smelled damp and musty, like things had died there, which, it occurred to me, wasn't all too slim of a possibility.

Steel bars blacked my way out of the small room. I was in a prison cell. Alcatraz.

Alcatraz is known as the most haunted place on earth to humans, but it's not haunted by the tortured souls who died there. In fact, the hauntings that are so often reported by humans are nothing more than quarreling spirits sent to limbo to settle their differences. You see, in limbo, it is much easier for spirits of all kinds to interact with each other. They can see, talk to and hear each other. Some even regain lost memories.

I walked through the bars, turning around to see my surroundings and hopefully fins Dib.

A blow to my jaw nearly sent me flying, skidding across the cold, gray concrete ground, though when I looked, I saw no one. I rose to my hands and knees and was struck again, across the upper back, hitting my wings and flattening me against the floor for a second time. There was a throbbing pain in between my shoulder blades, where the wings had their roots.

The boy materialized out of thin air. "You stay the _hell_ away from my family!" he shouted, his voice reverberating off the bare concrete and steel.

"Dib!" I had known he was there, had even been expecting him, but to see him standing there was… just a shock. I figured this would have to be done carefully; I didn't want anyone hurt, and I didn't want to destroy Alcatraz.

"You lied to me!" he roared, darting forward, throwing his first at me. I ducked, surprised, and felt him catch my shoulder. "You made me think that you were an angel, that you were there to _help_. You watched as I was beaten, made me think that you'd actually protect me! Then you left. How _could_ you!" His face was turning a hot red color as he shouted at me as loud as he could. I could see his eyes mist over, fighting tears with volume. "Do you know what that did to me? That made me feel _worthless_. Don't you dare think for a second that I'm going to let you do that to Mizzie!"

I didn't say anything, just let him go on, dodging most of the blows he dealt me. "You parasitic demon! I actually thought you cared. All those years… I thought maybe you saw something in me that I couldn't. And I was right: you saw sustenance." I could see that the boy's face was thoroughly flushed, the tears gone, and there was a certain fire about his eyes that I hadn't seen during his life.

I took a deep breath. "Dib, sweetheart…" the boy's angry frown deepened, and I figured that that had been a step in the wrong direction. A beat passed. "Please, let me say something." I paused for him to object. I was going to play on his terms. If he didn't want me to speak, then I wouldn't. When he didn't say anything, I continued, "You're right. I _did_ see something in you – I saw persistence; intelligence. A will unlike any I'd seen in a long time. Even when you were a child, I knew you were different." I said, "I cared about you, I really did, more than I'd cared about anyone or anything in a long time. I never stopped caring about or loving you, even after we were _both_ gone.

"I never left you – I never would, Dib, even if I could have. I was there the whole time. Even after you said that you wanted me gone, I was there doing everything I could. The crates toppling, your cell phone falling out of your pocket –" a confused look of remembrance came across his face. He was beginning to regain his memory. "–Do you remember that?" I asked. "That was the most I could do after that exceptional tie between us was severed. I'm sorry things got so out of hand after that."

"Stop." His anger looked diminished, replaced by something that resembled fear. He didn't want to hear this, to have to relive it. "Stop," he repeated.

But I couldn't.

"I never meant for any of this to happen." I droned on, growing louder and louder, using the same method he had to keep from breaking down. "I'm so sorry, and I'd give anything to have been able to keep you from doing what you did. You didn't deserve that." I could feel tears pooling behind my eyes, dripping down my face. "I'm sorry," I said, more softly that I intended. "I never should have left you, never should have made you think –"

"– That I was alone?" he sighed. I hung my head. "Allyson, look at me." I hesitated before wiping my eyes behind the veil of blonde gray hair and looking up at him. "Why did you decide to come back?" he asked.

I smiled bitterly. "It was not _my_ decision. If I had gotten any say in my situation I would have stayed as far away from our old home as possible. There was too much personal negative energy there, too much grief. Or so I'd thought. I'm glad, now, because… I never thought I'd get to see you again, because I'm always on Earth. I never expected that you'd still be here, never thought I'd get the chance to apologize for my mistakes."

There was a moment's pause as he stared at me; I could hardly look at him.

Dib shifted his weight uncomfortably. "You got older." He said, quietly.

It took me a moment to register. "What?"

"You got older," he repeated. "The whole time I knew you, you looked nineteen." It was true. As opposed to my nineteen year old self that he knew, I now looked as if I were in my mid thirties.

I stared blankly at him before smiling, laughing lightly. Dib frowned. "What? What's so funny?" he asked. I took a deep breath to stop the spell.

"Nothing sweetheart. That was just a bit unexpected."

"So was the fact that you look old enough to be my mother! Figuratively speaking of course, since I'm about seventy five right now. And you're – what?"

"One hundred thirty eight." I answered.

"Alright, old enough to be my grandmother!" he smiled, making my heart melt. I hadn't seen him smile in so long. He walked up to me and touched my face, a bright yellow light erupting from his fingertips and spreading across my whole body. When he stopeed and dropped his hand away, he smiled again. "There," he said quietly."

I felt better than I had since Milan. All the burdening weight of events had been lifted away, my body no longer taking on the look of a woman in her thirties; my face brighter, and the gray streaks in my hair gone.

I smiled and hugged the boy. "I missed you so much, sweetheart." I choked.

He put his hands on my back, a bit awkward, around my wings, which were folded forward. "It's been fifty years, Ally. I missed you too… I just didn't know it." After a moment, he sighed, pulling away. "What am I going to do? I can't go back to the house if they exorcised it."

I smoothed down his hair. "I think I have a solution."

"Yeah, what's that?" he asked.

I pointed to the far end of the hall. A magnificent light, like the sun caught in a lantern, was growing. "You know all the clichéd stories of dying humans seeing 'The Light'? Well, believe it or not, it's real."

"B-but… I'm a… ghost," he stuttered. "I don't… get the light."

I could feel my face flush. "You were supposed to." I said, ashamedly. He frowned, confused, yet still clearly astonished. He knew I was completely serious.

"When I died," he said, "There was nothing. All I remember was me looking down at my own body, and then a strange buzzing feeling from somewhere inside me. After that… I don't remember anything up until you in my room."

"That's my fault. When I saw what you'd done, that there was no way to wake you up or get help, when I… realized that you were dead… it threw me into an angel's oblivion, which is another life on Earth, before your spirit had the chance to materialize outside of your body." I said, standing next to him.

"But I thought ghosts don't 'get the light.' That's why we're ghosts. We missed it or something."

"But you're different. You were supposed to." He looked worried. "Are you alright?" Dib looked away, squinting into the light. I felt his fingers lace between mine and squeezed his hand. "Come on."

The light realized that we were walking towards it, and it grew bigger, brighter, until the entire room was bathed in a deep golden fire. The rays surrounded us, so incredible that I could barely see Dib standing right next to me.

It felt as if we were walking for several minutes, during which I could feel Dib's nervousness – his palms clammy, his fingers trembling against mine. I let go of his hand and instead, draped my arm across his shoulders and wrapped my wings around, shrouding both of us in a dense blanket of deep charcoal feathers.

"You don't have anything to be worried about," I said.

"You know what my dad was like, so into science… We weren't exactly a… devoted family, or anything." He said, sheepishly.

My laughter echoed in the radiant tunnel. "This has nothing to do with faith, or how devoted you were. And in your case, sweetheart, even less." I took his arm and we continued on, until the light gradually began to die down.

We emerged from the tunnel, the light disappearing completely. I swallowed hard and stood there, momentarily petrified. Dib's shoulders sank as he picked the cell phone up off his desk. We were back in his bedroom. I laid a hand on his back.

"To be honest, I don't even know what I was expecting…" he said. "Shouldn't have gotten my hopes up."

"Dib, I–"

"Nawh. It's alright. You tried." He gave me a weary smile and hugged me. "Thanks, Ally."

"Oh, sweetheart…" He was hurt and disappointed and I felt so horrible. Honestly, I couldn't understand why he'd been brought back to the house. I took his hand. "Come on. Why don't we go tell Miz that you're back? She'll be happy to know you're alright."

He sighed and we left the room.

AS we entered into the living room, Dib gasped and I was nothing short of shell-shocked. The livingroom was no longer designed in the contemporary style it had been when we left; it now looked as it did in Dib's childhood.

"What happened?" I asked slowly.

The boy's face suddenly lit up. "_Dad? Gaz?_" he called, frantically.

I frowned, confused.

"What's all the shouting for, honey?" I heard. I knew that voice. It was a voice I'd stayed with for thirty eight years.

Dib spun around so fast he almost fell. "Mom?"

Mae smiled as she reached the foot of the stairs. "It's been a while. How's my baby doing?"

He didn't answer; simply fell upon his mother's neck. "I missed you too, honey." She hugged her son. "Gazellene and your father told me that happened," she said, sternly.

Dib tried to speak, but was apparently at a loss for words. His mother smiled again. "It's oaky. Everything's better, now. Why don't you go let your father and sister know you're home? I'd like a moment to talk to Allyson."

Oh, boy.

There was silence as Dib ran out of the room. I shifted uneasily. "I daresay you were expecting something… different… when you asked me to take care of your children." I said, ashamed. "Forgive me."

"Honey," she said, rubbing my arm, "I'm not mad. You did wonderfully. You provided a sense of family for them. Heaven knows my husband is not the most parental being in existence." She laughed.

I smiled graciously. "Guiding you and your son have been the most wonderful times of _my_ afterlife, and now I've been blessed to guide your great-granddaughter."

"How's my granddaughter doing?" She asked causally.

"Wonderfully. Gaz named her Mae."

"She told me." Mae smiled.

Dib came back into the room as I was headed for the door. "Where're you going?" he asked, coming up behind me.

I stopped, turning. "Back to Miz." He seemed sad. I kissed the top of his head. "Have a good afterlife." I said quietly, smiling, "You've definitely earned it."

I opened the front door, flooding the foyer in a blue light.

Dib stood in the hall, stunned for a moment before darting to the front door, throwing it open. "Ally!" he called after her.

Golden sunlight illuminated the street his house was on.

Allyson was gone.

"Dib, honey, come back inside, will you?" Mae called.

The boy looked back at his mother for a fraction of a second before looking back outside, smiling, and closing the door.

His nirvana was life, exactly the way it should have been from the beginning.


	16. My Immortal

I'm so tired of being here, suppressed by all my childish fears  
And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave  
Your presence still lingers here and it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me

You used to captivate me by your resonating light  
Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone  
But though you're still with me, I've been alone all along

When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me, me, me


	17. Prologue: An Angel's Beginning

I can't believe I'm doing this... It's so out of place, and goes against all my organizational morals. THIS, my lovely little monsters, is the prologue to Life After Deat, written after the completeld fanficiton you have read. The next chapter is the alternate ending to The First Book, Angel. Enjoy.

-Tib Dunncan

Markie kissed me before I got out of the car. He'd driven me home, and we wouldn't see each other for the next two weeks. I was headed to my Aunt's house in Columbus. As I walked in the front door, I was greeted by a chaos of a family; my two younger brothers running about playing titan, a game they'd made up; my mother automatically handing me off a notepad of a list of things I needed to be sure I was brining with me.

I was the only one of my family who would be going to visit Aunt Nell this time. Mom was still fighting with the divorce, and she simply wouldn't allow the kids away from her side. If it weren't for the fact that Aunt Nell had just had surgery, I wouldn't have been going at all.

Aunt Nell had been struggling with back pains for nearly twenty years, but refused to see a doctor about it. It got progressively worse, and she soon had trouble moving. So, I was to go from my small town in Connecticut to help her until she made full recovery.

That evening, I took my bags and headed out to the garage. The airport was a good drive away, and it was already starting to get dark out. I hadn't wanted to drive there in the dark, I was planning to get to the airport by five and then spend a few hours there until my flight, but I shrugged it off. Not much I could do about it now.

I was driving down Interstate 494, singing to my Elvis cassette. I trust you're familiar with him.

"Caught in a trap, I can't walk out because I love you too much baby!" I rang out.

I drove up onto the overpass. A good fifteen minutes and I would be at the airport. Unfortunately, I would never make it.

I felt my insides turn over as I saw a pair of headlights hurtling towards me. There was nothing I could do, no where I could go on the overpass. I swerved to the right at the last possible second.

I didn't realize that the overpass turned left.

My car ricocheted over the guard rail and I plummeted to the pavement below.

I was fully aware of what was going on as the hood smashed onto the paved road below, crumpling like a tin can. The window imploded, showering me in glass, cutting my face and hands, and the steering wheel cut into my middle.

Random objects from the backseat came down on me, and the last thing I remember was a flaring pain in my forehead before blacking out.

I opened my eyes. There was a lot of noise from somewhere close to me, but I hadn't regained my bearings. Bright lights not too far away made it hard to see; colorful, blue and red flashing lights.

A fire truck, police cars, and an ambulance were blocking two lanes of traffic.

I propped myself up, feeling the concrete under my palms. How had I gotten out of my car?

I walked over to the accident to find that my car was in shambles. I couldn't remember anything… I felt so distant, like half of me wasn't really there. I figured a cop would be able to explain what had happened. He was standing with a woman, who looked rather frazzled at the scene in front of her, though she was explaining everything calmly and to the best of her ability.

"Excuse me, officer?" My voice even sounded distant. I was light headed and afraid I was going to pass out on the concrete again. Perhaps finding out the details wasn't too important right now, since he obviously didn't seem too interested in me. I should just go to the ambulance and let them check me out, make sure I was alright.

As I passed the wreck to get to the ambulance, I saw them take the roof off of my car. Suddenly, I couldn't move. A tangle of long blonde hair matted with blood showed from under the driver's seat, which had buckled forward. Two EMT personnel dragged the body out from the car and placed it on a stretcher. I ran to them as they placed the body in the ambulance.

I had died upon impact.

My body felt lighter and lighter as the scene dissolved around me, being replaced by nothing short of a void. There was a liquid cool feeling all around me and when I opened my eyes, it seemed as if I were underwater.

My pulse quickened, and I could feel my heart flutter. This confused me. I was dead, wasn't I? Dead people don't have pulses, or have their hearts flutter.

"_That's where you're wrong, Miss Allyson Marie Gik."_

I spun frantically. This also puzzled me, but to less of an extent. There was no visible floor, what was I standing on that allowed me to turn around or even stay upright?

"_You question this too much. You know nothing about how death works. There's one simple answer to all your questions: stop worrying. A tried and trusted system we have here. You are not the first to have died, you know. All will be taken care of."_

I couldn't _stop worrying_. I was _dead_. There were a few things I wanted to know.

"Where am I?" I shouted aimlessly, to whoever had addressed me and my concerns earlier.

"_Why do you care?" _

"Why won't you tell me?" This was simply getting childish.

"_How correct. Now, you have everything you need?"_

"Need? For what? Tell me what's going on!"

"_There is no time to chat, there's a woman in San Francisco who needs your help."_

My back felt funny. It sort of itched. I reached back to feel, by my fingers were blacked by something with feathers. This startled me, and when I turned to see what it was, I felt off balance.

There was _something_ on my back. I looked over my shoulder, to be greeted by more black feathers, which, incidentally, were attached to a pair of wings that reached four feet above me head.

I had _wings_.

I touched the top of my head and felt a smooth object hovering there. My fingers traced it around my head; a halo. I lifted the halo from around my head and stared at it, nothing short of awestruck.

"_Didn't you hear me? She needs you, now!"_

I placed the golden hoop back on my head and felt it ease itself back into its proper place. "Who?" I asked, panicked.

"_You'll know her when you see her."_

"How do I get out of here?"

"_For goodness sake, you know perfectly well how to leave. Angel's intuition, no?"_

I searched about the space I was in, but found nothing but a seemingly endless, seamless watery blue existence.

I felt the growing urgency to get out of the place, coupled with slight claustrophobia. _I need to get out of here. I need to find this woman, to help her. Be with her. I need to be with her. Find her… Go to her._

That was all I needed. Instantaneously, I was out of the cold blue room and in a suburban apartment complex.

I walked down the hall, noticing the water-stains on the walls, my footsteps not making any noise no matter how hard I tried. The apartments seemed to be small, none particularly eye-catching, but one. Apartment 44. There was nothing spectacular about it, but I stopped in front of it anyway, trying the doorknob. Unfortunately, and to my mild surprise, my hand waded right through the chipped gold-painted knob.

I sighed to myself and walked right through the door without complication. Being dead was strange…

There was a woman inside, fumbling with a gun, her shoulders heaving with each sob.

Oh.

I'd have to fix that…

Mae Stonner sat in her tiny apartment, clutching the gun to her chest. The cold metal against her skin was the only reassurance that this was really happening. She was actually sort of mad at Membrane for being there. How had he found her anyway? She hadn't given him her new address, yet. Not that she had intended to. It was so humiliating, that she had to live here. She just wanted to stop, and he was here, messing everything up.

"Mae, Put the gun down." He said, inching closer to her. "Look, there's nothing wrong with you. I want to talk to you." His voice was soft.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as he sat himself next to her; she pressed the barrel of the gun to her abdomen, making the man next to her more jittery than before.

"Do you have to do this?" he asked, regaining what composure he could find. "There's a woman in my class, a psychiatrist, who works with depression. She's wonderful, and can help. I promise, we can make things better." He rubbed her back. She rocketed up and stood in front of him, brandishing the weapon.

"_How can you help?_" She shouted. "_By pumping me full of drugs and treating me like an experiment? How will that help my situation?_"

"Mae, that's not how this works. The medicine isn't like it used to be. It's a more exact science now, not just trial and error. Don't you want this to end? All the pain to go away?"

"_Not you or anybody else can do that! I lost everything! Look at where I am now!"_

It had been months since the fire that had burned down her old apartment complex. She'd had to move and give up her old job downtown, close to the college that she'd had to drop out of. This shitty apartment was the only thing she could find, and she was in danger of losing that, too, because no well paying job wanted to hire her. Everywhere she applied, there would always be one person who had more credentials, more experience.

She'd lucked out more than she cared to count.

"But we can, Mae. We can fix everything. Dr. Sellick can help. She'll make the depression stop. And I'll fix your situation."

Mae felt like breaking down, just giving in right in front of him. But she wouldn't. She wouldn't let him see her in complete shambles like that. "And how do you plan to do that?" she said, quietly. "Your medicine certainly can't do anything."

"That's hardly what I had in mind. I'll call Sellick, and you start packing up your belongings."

"Why?" She asked, "Where else am I going to _go_?"

"I was thinking my apartment." He smiled.

She loved it when he smiled like that. That smile could never hurt her. It never did. Every time she saw that smile, she felt… she didn't know how to describe it. Something like a hybrid of butterflies and pure joy. Especially when he was smiling _at her_.

Mae dropped the gun and wrapped her arms around his neck, no longer caring if the tears flowed freely. "I love you, Mem." She choked. He held his friend's tiny frame in his arms, not really wanting to let go.

He loved her, too. Of course, when Mae said that she loved him, it obviously meant that she appreciated what he was doing for her. He'd have done anything for her. Membrane hated seeing Mae this way. She didn't know it, though.

When she let go, Membrane could see something in her eyes. He dismissed it as new hope and smiled. "I'm going to go make some calls."


	18. Life After Death: Alternate Ending

**Dear readers,**

**I take it all back. Every last word and comma and period, I take it back.**

**Let me start with an apology. I forgot about the alternate ending. I avoided this story because I was positively ashamed of it - of Dib. Things have happened in the last year since I've updated this story with its final chapter. Funnily enough, you might say I was playing the part of a certain fancharacter with wings. It did to me a million times what it did to Allyson - For quite some time, I was very broken, and I still have trouble saying some words and hearing others. Thank god this was already typed months ago, or you wouldn't be getting an alternate ending.**

**Let me follow that with an offer: Take this to heart. This ending is what I'm most proud of in this story. I've forgotten everything about this story and only remember their end. This is a chance to make up for that, for 'taking the easy way out,' ironically enough. THIS chapter is the only other chapter, perhaps save for Ammends, that even offers a semblance of hope. And I know this, trust me, everyone needs it.**

**And finally, If you're reading this and you're an Dib or a Mae, I hope and pray that you have, or you find an Allyson. I tried, I know it's not easy, but everyone deserves an Allyson. And if you KNOW a Dib, or a Mae... I would NEVER ask you to put yourself, alone, in that position. Because how many of you honesty know what it's like to hold someone's life in your hands? Eery word you speak could have an influence over their mood, their thought process... It's impossible. But if you know someone who needs help, help them. You don't have to do it alone. **

**Enjoy the rest of the story. This truly is the last of it, I wouldn't be able to bring myself to write more.**

**And remember: Never Give Up. Rescue is Possible. 3 **

**Love,**  
**Tib.**

* * *

"Dib, please, don't do this."

But he couldn't hear her. Dib brought the glass to his wrist, holding it as one would hold a knife ready to stab someone. "It's not worth it!" he screamed, yanking the glass across his wrist with an angry force, bringing blood. "Why did I tell you to _go_?" he yanked the glass across his wrist a second time. He bowed his head as blood seeped from his veins. "I want you back, Allyson." He choked, holding the glass to his wrist again.

Allyson, kneeling at the edge of the bathtub looked up, tears filling her eyes. "I'm here, sweetheart! I'm here!" She could see it; something sparked in his eye. Had he heard her?

The boy raised his head. Ally could see tears streaming down his face, and reached over the rim to wipe them away. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart," she said, through her own tears.

The boy dropped the glass, and groped at his face with his good hand. "Allyson?" His breathing became labored and his eyes misted over.

"Dib, I'm right here. I'm here. Stay awake."

She grabbed both his wrists. "I won't let you do this," she said sternly. "I told you before, haven't I? I'm not going anywhere!" She hoisted him up and he stumbled out of the bathtub. Dib tried to pull his hands from her grip, but she wouldn't let go. She sat him down on the toilet and pulled at the roll or toilet tissue, wrapping it around his wrist until there was nothing left on the roll.

Sirens rang out in the small neighborhood as the ambulance pulled away. Allyson didn't care if she was sat in, or stepped in, she refused to move from beside the gurney that Dib lay on.

Dry sobs came from the girl's lips now, as she watched her child sleep. She had no more tears left in her, she'd been crying since that afternoon.

There's a gift in watching the troubled sleep peacefully, she realized. Sleep was the only time Dib wasn't hurt. She reached for the boy's hand, but thought better of it, not wanting to risk waking him.

The cops were still baffled on the subject of who had called 911. The doors were all locked tight, no one was in the house besides the boy, and there was no blood on the phone. As a matter of fact, the phone was placed back on the receiver when they arrived.

Allyson snapped out of her thoughts as her child began to stir. He swallowed hard several times before squinting into the bright hospital lights. As his eyes adjusted to the harsh stark white room and he opened them further, she saw they were dull, nearly lifeless.

She held his hand, a silent promise that she wouldn't let go ever again, and he met her gaze, his expression weary and unreadable.

"It's over." She choked, shaking her head. "Nobody's going to hurt you ever again. I'll see to it."

"Ally…" He mumbled, falling back into a sleep. He'd lost a lot of blood – almost too much. It'd been a close call; they'd almost lost him because he wouldn't stop bleeding in the ambulance. She didn't blame him for being tired, especially after this whole ordeal. That afternoon seemed so long ago.

She'd let him sleep…

* * *

Membrane slumped down in the chair by his work desk. He couldn't process this… it couldn't be right. It couldn't, he wouldn't allow it.

Dib was clinically depressed.

He knew his son had always been a bit moody, but depressed? Membrane couldn't deal with depressed. Cancer, Autism, Diabetes, all those he could've handled. But depression…

Dib knocked on the doorframe.

Membrane couldn't look at his son, because he knew his eyes would travel straight to the bandages on his left arm.

"Dad? Pharmacist called, said the medication was ready. Full prescription."

Anti depressants.

The Professor's insides turned at the very thought of those bottles being in his house again. He stood and reached for the telephone. "I need to make a call, son. I'll be out in a minute."

Dib shrugged it off and left his father to his work.

It was a lie. No phone calls, no work. No more excuses. Membrane had to look his son in the eye sometime.

But those bandages on his wrist.

The hell of it was that he'd known before he'd married her. Mae had had trouble coping with her depression since she was twenty two. There were fights in the middle of the night; days, weeks even, that she slept through. There was the medication that did nothing for her.

What if he was the same way as his mother? What if the bottles and bottles of medication that the doctors were shoving down his throat did nothing for him? Membrane couldn't lose Dib the same way he'd lost Mae.

It'd come so close, though. Too close for his comfort.

* * *

Dib walked back into the living room where Allyson was sitting with him. She'd just been watching him, thinking about how things had been tense the last few weeks since he'd gotten out of the hospital. There were tear-filled nights and late mornings. Even just last night, Dib had broken down in tears, realizing for the first time everything that had happened in the last month. Allyson sat with him on the couch and held him, shrouding them under her wings.

He was scared that he'd go back to feeling like he had before. Even with the medication, there were pangs of that same empty feeling he'd kept from everyone for so long. Even without the taunting and torture from the other kids, he didn't know what to do.

And she'd held him, telling him that it would never come to that again, as long as she was with him.

It's said that time heals all, and having been through so many different tragedies, Allyson knew this to be true. But all the scars and cuts that his body had endured, physical or otherwise, would take a long time to heal.


	19. The Last Night

You come to me with scars on your wrist  
You tell me this will be the last night feeling like this  
I just came to say goodbye  
I didn't want you to see me cry, I'm fine  
But I know it's a lie.

This is the last night you'll spend alone  
Look me in the eyes so I know you know  
I'm everywhere you want me to be.  
The last night you'll spend alone,  
I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go,  
I'm everything you need me to be.

Your parents say everything is your fault  
But they don't know you like I know you they don't know you at all  
I'm so sick of when they say  
It's just a phase, you'll be o.k. you're fine  
But I know it's a lie.

This is the last night you'll spend alone  
Look me in the eyes so I know you know  
I'm everywhere you want me to be.  
The last night you'll spend alone,  
I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go,  
I'm everything you need me to be.

The last night away from me

The night is so long when everything's wrong  
If you give me your hand I will help you hold on  
Tonight,  
Tonight.

This is the last night you'll spend alone  
Look me in the eyes so I know you know  
I'm everywhere you want me to be.  
The last night you'll spend alone,  
I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go,  
I'm everything you need me to be.

I won't let you say goodbye,  
I'll be your reason why.

The last night away from me,  
Away from me.


End file.
